


A Place Out of Time - Part One

by lavellan_hellion



Series: A Place Out of Time [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dragon Age Erotica, Erotica, F/M, Fanfiction, Love Stories, My First Fanfic, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Romance, Romance with Solas, Sex, Smut, Solas Smut, Solas is Fen'Harel, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 91,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavellan_hellion/pseuds/lavellan_hellion
Summary: This story is post-cannon from DA:I Trespasser and has to go off cannon in order for the story to work so I took liberties with ensuring that Flemeth/Mythal was still alive as well as many other concepts. This is a lengthy piece and I'll be adding it bit by bit as I work on each segment. There is a definitive ending to this story but there are also many plot twists and cliffhangers. That means each chapter will be released as I write them and end with (hopefully) a hook. I will also attempt to polish up on editing previous chapters as I catch mistakes.-------------------------------------Once reunited with Rowan Solas attempts to save the woman he loves from a life threatening illness. Things go awry in his act of desperation and Rowan awakens to find herself in a strange world a thousand years later unable to remember anything about herself. Solas must help her make the journey to the ruins of Skyhold in hopes of retrieving her memories. With a prophecy looming over their heads will they make it in time?





	1. Prologue: Into the Mist

 

Rowan awoke and lay in bed for a moment getting her bearings straight. She had lived in her little cottage on the forest's edge for well over a year now but always expected to see her old surroundings from Skyhold. It still took her a few moments to let the old memories fade and take stock of her new surroundings. Slowly the images of her old room faded and reality set in. Her cottage was simple, as was its furnishings. She liked simple. After all the lavish things bestowed upon her in Skyhold simple was what her soul needed. What it wanted.

Getting out of bed she rubbed her left hand. He had taken that from her as well when he removed the Anchor, but at the great insistence of Dorian she had allowed him to utilize the talents of Blood Magic from a friend of his. She knew it must have taken a lot for Dorian to even consider such a thought given his great distaste for Blood Magic, but the Mage he hired utilized her Magic to fabricate regrowth of yet another thing she had lost. Her arm. Yet she still felt the tingling sensation of the Anchor; phantom memory they told her. Not so unlike whenever a warrior lost a limb, but hers was the crackling sensation of the Anchor that she had felt from the very first day she had awoken in the cells at Haven, just fainter.

The loss of her arm wasn't as bothersome to her nor insomuch that her adventuring days were done; it was that it had become a constant reminder of him. And thus she succumbed and allowed Dorian's friend to perform her spell in hopes of lifting the weight of some of her gloominess. But it hadn't helped, not truly. Once again she absentmindedly rubbed at the phantom feeling of the Anchor she bore for so long.

She sat down at her table and sipped the tea she did not remember making. Such were her days where she just drifted about in a daze. Again his name drifted through her head as usual.

“ _Solas_ ,” she whispered into the morning air to no one but herself.

After all this time he was still a constant on her mind. She lay dreaming night after night pushing her Mage's mind's eye through the Veil to the Fade in search of him. In her dreams she would catch a glimpse of him before he disappeared into an Eluvian or she would snap awake to the real world. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of a wolf in the mists of the forest outside her home, other times a hooded figure whose frame she recognized. Always a figure she could never mistake. And when those nights came she'd take flight in hopes of catching up to him, knowing in her heart of hearts that it was he, but always she would lose sight of him just as she was drawing close. Sometimes he was in her dreams... Always there, always haunting her. Day and night, everyday.

She knew he was allowing himself to be seen, but the question was, “Why?”

She left the Inquisition when her melancholy became too much to bear. Every corner, every mortar and stone, was yet another memory that somehow reminded her of him. Her balcony where they shared a kiss and he told her he loved her. His empty rotunda with the paintings seemingly still fresh of her so-called accomplishments. Even the faces of her companions became painful to see as each of them attempted to lift her spirits in vain. And so she came here hoping for some form of reprieve, but there was none to be had. She had even put away her sending crystal from Dorian, tucking it away in a box along with some of her few but most precious belongings. Not even his most jovial quips could lift her spirits. No, she was better off alone and unburdened by the presence of others. She had told no one that she was leaving, no hint as to where she was headed. She simply vanished as he had done to her. Not even Dorian knew, though with the Inquisitions resources she was certain she could be found. Leliana may be the Divine now, but of all people she was one that could easily track her down if they needed her. So far she had been left alone.

When the time came she would rejoin the Inquisition if they called upon her, if they needed her, but right now what she needed was solitude. And to find Solas, if she could.

Three years past and Corypheus had been defeated and the world had been saved all due to the Inquisition and its efforts. That was something many accredited her for. But it wasn't just her. No, there were many others that were also the heart and foundation of the Inquisition, but it had been she that carried the weight of it all. It had been over a year since she left the Inquisition after the Council of Heralds, over a year since she had seen him. The man she loved. Correction, still loved.

Solas, Fen'Harel;  **The Dread Wolf**.

Rowan made her way into her bedroom and sat at her mirror. Picking up her brush she began running it through her long white hair. She had long stopped cutting it and pinning it up. There was no need. It had grown extremely long over the years after Corypheus. She gazed in the mirror at herself barely recognizing the woman staring back at her. Pitch black eyes, pale pink lips, fair skin, and long flowing white hair. She hardly recognized herself these days. Then again she had never been one concerned with looks to begin with. She had always pinned her hair up so it was out of the way, especially for battle, but now it flowed freely down and over her shoulders. The woman in the mirror was a remnant of the woman she once was.

Getting dressed she chose a white gown made of gossamer with silver petal embroidery along the edges. Another gift from Dorian these pretty little dresses. They were all of Elven design yet also with a hint of Dorian's touch. He did have a flair for fashion and had lavished her with these dresses. Yet one more way he had tried to bring some small amount of cheer into her life. One more way she had let someone dear to her down. This one was her favorite, however. Little ties along the sleeves and down the front it was soft and flowing, not flared out like the ballroom gowns at the Halamshiral Winter Palace. No it was nice, light, and flowing. It accented her features and frame beautifully. She had long hung up her battle attire as it was no longer needed. These dresses would do. She had never been one for frilly dresses or pretty things, but they allowed more freedom of movement and even her old attire was a constant reminder of another time of her life she was always pushing to the back of her mind.

Night fell and the mists rolled in from the forest's edge. This was her favorite time of day. She loved the way it looked, the fog flitting about the trees almost like playful wisps. It was one of the few things that brought her slight joy. She donned a cloak over her dress, yet another gift from Dorian. White as her hair with fur trim to take the bite out of the cold night air.

She went outside to sit like she did every night. Her staff was ever at her side in the advent that she needed it. So far, aside from the occasional bear, she had chosen a relatively peaceful spot. She rarely even practiced any longer. She felt almost as if her magic was waning, possibly from lack of use. Like a muscle growing soft from lack of training. She looked over her dwellings, trees great and tall, a wellspring to draw fresh water from, rich soil in which to grow berries and fruit bearing trees, and the perfect view of the forest which had always been her favorite place growing up. She often sat outside and drew pictures in a book filled with blank pages, this one a gift from Josephine. She had forgotten how much she once enjoyed drawing. But that had been a time before the Inquisition. A time before all of this.

In the distance she heard a sudden howling in the night. There was no mistaking what it was; a wolf! Deluded by grief and heartache every wolf to her was possibly him. As she always did when she heard a wolf she darted to her feet and tore through the forest in search of it completely forgetting her staff on the patio. She ran through the trees turning this way and that. The mist swirling at her feet. She stopped long enough only to listen for the next howl so she could redirect her path. Every wolf was possibly Fen'Harel to her. _All she had to do was get to him before he disappeared_ , she thought.

Finally she came to a bend in the trees and there it was in the distance. A majestic specimen. It was him. Every heartbeat that pounded in her chest told her so.

The mighty wolf stood still instead of running off like it normally would. She drew closer. There seemed a faint hint of panic in the wolf's eyes when he saw her but 10 feet from him. Yes, it was him, she knew it. No normal wolf would look at her that way, with such intelligence behind them, and the eyes held a faint familiarity about them. Eyes she saw every time she closed hers.

Knowing he had been caught the air shimmered in front of the wolf and it leaped through what seemed to be a portal disappearing from her view. It was almost like a Rift but slightly different. She steeled herself and dug in her heels. He would not get away from her so easily. Not this time. She had finally caught up to him and she'd be damned if she did not attempt to follow. She leaped into the air and tumbled into the portal praying she had made it in time before it had closed. When she came to her feet she recognized her surroundings, they were in the Fade. Without the Anchor she could no longer access the Fade except in dreams, until now.

She had made it, and before her stood her heart's greatest desire.

_Solas..._


	2. Through the Eluvian

Rowan was too beside herself to speak, too overcome with the onrush of feelings that took over her as her gaze fell upon him. She hadn't prepared herself for how she would react IF she had found him after all these years. Fury? Sorrow? Joy? She found she was a gambit of emotions presently and all she could do was stand there and stare while her heart fluttered in her chest. He stood before an Eluvian with his back turned to her with one hand clasping his other arm behind his back. A gesture she was quite familiar with. A proud stance; regal, commanding.

Her presence troubled him, that much was apparent in the stiff way he just stood there. She thought for a moment that he would slip into the Eluvian never to be seen again, yet he didn't. She had caught him off guard, nevertheless he stayed. For the moment anyhow.

Neither of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity. Finally Solas half turned towards her. “Garas quenathra?” he asked her in the old Elvhen. _Why have you come?_

“It was a foolish thing to do.” He all but shook his head as if she were some petulant child.

“You know me well enough to know how I feel about you, or did you think I would so easily forget you and what we once shared?” she asked. “You knew I would pursue you, so don't ask me such questions.” Her face flushed red, a temper rising to the surface at what she took as an affront. She was shocked at even herself. Normally she would never have taken such a tone with him. And hadn't she been dreaming of this very moment for years? Had she come all this way to lash out at him and drive him away again?

She took several deep breaths to calm herself. This was not the reunion she anticipated. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him off. All this time spent chasing after him without a thought as to what she would say if or when she did.

He dipped his head down, still not facing her. “Ir abelas, Lethallin,” he said in that silky voice of his touched by a hint of sadness. “You are correct, I should not have bothered you. The fault is mine and mine alone.”

“Tell me then, Solas, why did you come to me all those times?” she asked. No more games, no more half-truths. She wanted and deserved answers.

“I did not have the strength to stay away,” he confessed. His answer shook her heart to its foundation. “Knowing what is to come I had to... see you.” His entire posture gave away his sudden defeat. He seemed to be struggling with something but gave no hint as to what.

“I never imagined leaving you would be worse than any loss I have ever endured,” he continued softly. “The death of Mythal? The loss of the Orb? Even the Spirit of Wisdom? I didn't think it would be harder than any of all those combined.” It was hard to admit to her the depth of his pain, but he knew it could never compare to the pain he had caused her. Such that it was it merely added to his own. _I have failed her_ , he thought to himself.

Giving voice to the truth was harder than he expected. And she was correct of course. He should have stayed away. He should have known she would spot his presence eventually. He should have known all too well that she would pursue him. Yet fool that he was he did it anyhow. He had no resolve when it came to her and he knew it. Perhaps deep down inside the recesses of his heart he had desired this evening's “capture” all along? After all, how many times had he haunted her through the trees at the edge of the forest at night? Too many. It had been a reckless thing for him to do.

He partially looked over his shoulder at her. “I never intended for you to see me,” he stated. “You are more observant than I have given you credit for. I have misjudged you once again.” With that he chuckled as if slightly amused by her. He turned back to face the Eluvian fully prepared to slip away. _Go now,_ his mind all but screamed. _Send her home and leave her be forever after._ Except there wasn't a forever after, was there? No, there was not. Not even if he had changed his mind about what he was going to do to the Fade, the world, and its people there could still be no future for them.

Rowan sensed his desire to flee, but before he could take a step forward she placed her hand on his arm, soft and light. “Don't go,” she begged of him. Those were the very same words she had spoken to him long ago on her balcony. Right before he confessed his love for her. Right before their first real kiss. The beginning of it all, he thought.

Or had it been? No, he had been confounded by this beautiful creature the moment he had first laid eyes on her. She had been unconscious and lay dying on the floors in the cells at Haven. On her hand she bore the mark that he had intended for himself, the mark that she had thankfully taken from Corypheus. But as she lay there in the dark on the damp prison floors dying even then something about her had inexplicably pulled at him. The fact that a mere mortal Elven woman could survive the Anchor and the Fade piqued his curiosity even further. What was it about her that had marked her as special, he had wondered?

“Solas, please, look at me.” Her soft voice snapped him out of his reverie. It brought him back to the here and now.

When he turned she saw the deep sorrow etched on his face, each echoing the pain of the other. A lone tear made its way down his cheek. Not even when he broke off whatever relationship it was they once had did he shed a tear. Not when the Orb was destroyed and he had held the shattered fragments in his hand. Not when his friend, the Spirit of Wisdom, was dying either. A deep and profound sadness, always, but that had always been a part of his charm to her, had it not?

She alone had seen him in anger, laughter, sadness, frustration, but not this. Never this. Never a single solitary tear. His tears were always in his voice.

“Solas,” she asked, "What's wrong?” She sensed there was something deeper he was not telling her. Her mere presence alone could not be its cause. “Whatever it is you can tell me, you know that.” She looked deep into those beautiful gray eyes of his as if searching for the answer. He saw her looking at him as if to pierce his soul and pull it from his mind. It was something he was he wasn't certain he had the courage or desire to tell her, yet he knew he must. She deserved the truth if anything. She had made it here, to him, after all. He owed her the truth if anything in the very least.

“Is it …time? Is that what this is all about?” she asked as if on cue.

Ah yes, the time when he would pull down the barrier of the Fade, awaken the Evanuris, and set his plans into motion. A plan that would see this world burn in the chaos to come. An end to all things and the beginning of a new age for Elves.

“No and yes,” he replied. “But that is not the reason I came to you, or HAVE been coming to you.” Suddenly he looked off into the distance, deep into the Fade. He watched as spirits flitted about responding to their emotions. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes for what he had to say next. “Na melana sahlin...” again in the old Elvhen, “ _Your time is come_.” Locking his eyes with hers he spoke that truth he would have kept hidden had he the ability or the right to, “You are... dying.” He choked on his words as they softly slipped out of his mouth, his voice barely above a whisper.

 _Dying?_ She thought. _How?_ She looked at him questioningly. He looked defeated as he stared deep into her eyes. He watched the play of emotions on her face and then finally the processing of the ramifications of what he had just conveyed to her.

All feeling had been beaten out of her at this revelation. She felt numb. It struck her like a wall. She could only imagine what it was doing to him. He loved her, that much she knew was certain. His love for her matched her love for him from the very beginning. Telling her couldn't have been an easy task for him she knew. But this? Dying? From what, she wondered.

“It was the Anchor's doing,” he continued, reading the questions on her face. She had never been very skilled at hiding her reactions or her emotions, even Iron Bull had once said as much, and she failed to do so now. Solas knew her better than she could ever imagine. Her expressions were like an open book to him from the very beginning.

“I believed that by removing the Anchor you would be safe,” he continued. “It was killing you from the very beginning and I fooled myself into believing I could override its power. That when I was stronger I could remove its hold on you entirely.” And believed it he had. Just as he had believed he could retrieve his Orb after the explosion was supposed to have killed Corypheus. He knew now the folly of believing in anything. He was his own undoing time and again, it seemed.

He looked at her new arm, the one that replaced the arm he had taken from her; the one that had bore the Anchor. He didn't have to wonder how it came to be, or why. Nothing she had done since he left had gone unnoticed by him. But yes her arm, he had believed, was the key. In order to remove the Anchor she had to lose her arm. And he fooled himself into believing that would be the end of it for her. But that hadn't been the case, had it? No, it had already begun coursing throughout the very fibers of her being from the moment it was bestowed upon her hand and now it was inexplicably killing her.

“Your magic is waning as you well know” he said to her. “There is no doubt you've felt it over time. It is because of the sickness the Anchor left inside you, and it is killing you. And now you are in the Fade, _physically in the Fade_ , and without the protection of the Anchor where no mortal should be!” He sighed heavily before continuing, “Even I can not protect you from it, especially not now. _That_ is why you should not have come. You have only hastened its hold over you by being here.”

So that explained her magic. It had not been growing weaker due to lack of use as she had previously thought. No it was because of this _sickness_. She looked at him eyes wide in disbelief as he continued on “The Fade is not how you remember it. You can feel it even now, can you not?” he asked cocking his head to the side questioningly.

He was right, of course. She looked around. It was more vibrant than she remembered it, and it felt agitated. It was teaming with more magic than she had ever felt. She had been too preoccupied with Solas to notice before now. It was as if it was pushing against her very flesh, feeling her out, seeping into her very pores. It was almost ALIVE. Alive like the red lyrium had been alive. It was no longer simply a reflection of emotions, thoughts, and memories. There was something inexplicably MORE to it now.

She noticed that the landscape shifted and changed in a constant flux. Almost as if it could not settle on a single form for too long. The Fade was normally shaped by the dreams of men, she had been told. But now something else was happening with it, or happened TO it.

She had never experienced the Fade without the Anchor and he had just told her that it was what was killing her. Old Chantry tales about mortals entering the Fade in the flesh came to mind and she couldn't help but wonder about the others that had gone into the Fade with her during their encounter at Adamant Fortress? If she was dying what about the them? Cassandra, Blackwall, and Alistair? Were they, too, infected by simply being there? Were they dying from it as well? She knew the answer without having to ask the question.

“So is that why you came to me?” she asked. “Because I'm dying? Is that the reason?”

“At first yes. But then it was simply a matter that I could not bear to go on not seeing you. I told myself it would just be the one time,” he explained, “but after that I knew I would not be able to stay away forever. I told you once there was truth to what we had, and I meant every word.” He gave her a half smile, “I should have known you would pursue me, and that one day you would eventually catch up to me. I had both hoped you would as well that you would not,” he chuckled. “You never were a fool were you? Except, perhaps, in placing your heart in my hands.”

“Then why, after all this did you turn away from me at The Crossroads? Why not allow me to come with you then? I begged you to take me with you!” She shook her head at him.

“Because, as I said, I thought I could undo its power over you.”

“How much...” she faltered, finding it difficult to finish her question, “How much time do I have?”

“Entering the Fade in the flesh?” he asked. “Less time than you would have had otherwise.”

“How much time, Solas?” she pressed for the answer from him. This much he owed her, she thought.

“It is hard to say; Hours? Days? A week at best.” he swallowed hard, the pain a lump in his throat. “Please, Rowan, go,” he begged her turning his back to her once more. “I will ensure you a painless and swift passing, that is all I can offer you now.”

“No, I refuse,” she said adamantly. Her words took him by surprise. He turned and faced her once more and she took a few steps towards him. She was going to stand her ground with him this time. She did not come all this way to be turned away at her darkest hour. Not after all these years and certainly not after this revelation. If she was dying he was going nowhere and neither was she.

Looking at her he admitted something to himself he had been avoiding. He had loved in the past, but not the way he had loved her. Not the way a man loves a woman. And she had been willing to follow him through his darkest hours and still remain at his side even knowing what was to come next and he, fool that he was, had turned her away. He could have given her a semblance of some life together. He had known even then that the Anchor had marked her for certain death. Yet he had denied her, coward that he had been.

“If I'm dying as you say,” she said breaking the silence, “then at least grant me my last moments with you.” Her eyes searched his face, almost pleading with him.

Solas choked on his words, his lower lip trembling. “Please, do not ask this of me. I can not bear such a thing. I could not live with such a memory.” Suddenly her eyes stung with tears. She was dying and he was going to leave her again? She could not believe this was happening to her as the reality of it sunk in finally.

“If I'm going to die I want to die being with the man I love,” she said placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “I want it to be with you, in your arms. I want the last thing I see to be your face, to hear your voice. To feel your arms around me and your lips pressed against mine. To hear you call me 'Vhenan' one last time. Grant me this one last request, Solas.”

Now he was left with very little choice. The woman he loved was truly dying, how could he turn away now? He could not take the coward's path yet again. He could not do that to her. Everything else could wait, she would take precedence now. He would grant her last dying wishes because he knew the pain of regret already.

He stepped towards her slowly closing the gap between them. “Take my hand,” he said, very much the same exact way he had said it when last they were together. The day he had left her life. The day he removed the Anchor and her arm along with it.

With a flick of his wrist he cast his spell, the very same one that he had used at Haven to slow down the process as much as he could. A crackling of magic surged through her hand, up her arm, then throughout her entire body.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“Bought us some more time. Just like in Haven, and once again at the Crossroads. Though how much more I cannot say for certain.”

He looked at her truly for the first time since this interlude began. Though he had been watching her from a distance all this time he still reveled in her sheer beauty. Her long white hair left to flow freely around her face and down around her shoulders, her pale and flawless skin, those large almond shaped eyes with irises as black as Onyx, her pert mouth with their full lips as kissable as ever. She was petite and shorter than he, barely reaching above his chin. Her lithe frame making her out to be some creature of delicate beauty that needed protecting though he knew that was not the case. There was immeasurable strength to her as well and she had been an impressive Mage.

It wasn't just her physical features that had attracted him. Her mind matched her beauty making her even more irresistible to him. She was the perfect combination of looks, intelligence, curiosity, and humor. He had always delighted in her company and answered her endless questions in the past, overly pleased by her curiosity and unquenchable thirst for knowledge and understanding. It was almost as if she had been made for him and him alone. She was a rare specimen to him and had humbled him on more than one occasion. And when she flirted with him he could not help but to either stammer or flirt in return.

He noticed she was wearing one of the many gowns he had grown accustomed to seeing her in. Dressed all in white with silver gilding she looked like a bride on her wedding day. Even in her sorrow she was a thing of great beauty. A Goddess in her own rights. The sight of her always caught his heart in his throat. Why had he been such a fool, he wondered? Why couldn't he have swallowed his pride and taken her with him all those years ago?

He cupped her beautiful face in his hands and planted a soft kiss upon her lips. THIS was what she had been dreaming of all these years. She melted against his chest and with that he gathered her in his arms and kissed her deeply. His mouth tasting hers, his tongue darting against hers, his arms wrapped around her tiny frame as his lips crushed against hers. The longer he kissed her the more passionate and demanding his kisses became, and she matched his passion step for step.

Her dress was thin enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin pressed against him. Her breasts crushed against his chest. He ran his hands through her silky white hair. In all their years at Haven and Skyhold she had kept it tightly wound up, always professional, yet to see her so fully HER drove him mad with desire. He had to break free from the kiss before losing all control of his senses. He, too, had dreamed of this very same thing ever since he had left her at the Crossroads.

She was reminded her of their first kiss in the Fade dream; passionate and with abandon. It was with fervor, demanding, seeking. A longing neither had ever felt before. Except this time there was no hesitation, no pulling away. In his arms she finally felt safe and whole once more. How long had she dreamed of this very moment? If she had to die at least she had this first.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan” he said to her. _I love you, my heart._ Again, familiarity as those were the very same words he had spoken to her back at Skyhold on her balcony. He meant them then, but he meant them even more so now.

He had no more secrets to hide and his soul and heart were laid bare as he surrendered completely inside. He was certain she would pass on tonight, by dawn at best. He could feel it in the very core of his being. There was so much he wanted to do and so uncertain of how much time they truly had to do it in. He wanted to share himself with her in more ways than one, to bring both their dreams to life had things been different. For this evening he would pretend as if the world was theirs and they had all the time they needed. He would attempt to cram a life of love into whatever time was left to them.

As for her, so long as she had him by her side she would not fear her own ending. She was with him once again, and for whatever time they had left to them was enough for her.

“Come with me,” he said taking her hand into his, “I want to take you somewhere. There is something I want you to see.” For the first time since she arrived she saw him smile as they stepped through the Eluvian.


	3. Love that Binds the Soul

Solas and Rowan stepped out of the Eluvian and what she beheld was one of the most beautiful gardens she had ever seen. She hadn't known what to expect, where he had directed the Eluvian to take them, but this? She marveled at the untamed beauty of it all.

They had stepped out onto a stone platform that led down into a small pond. On the place where they stood was an elegant looking stone bench. Either they had spent more time in the Fade than she realized or wherever the Eluvian had taken them was early morning because the sun reflected off the waters casting hues of gold.

They were at the far end of a circular enclosure, similar to the one at the Temple of Mythal, but the grounds were almost overgrown with flowers of various types growing wild everywhere. She could make out a few, but there were so many it was hard to make out them all. There were roses of all colors, the sweet scent of jasmine and lilacs filled the air, baby's breath and daisies grew wild, and the grass was a plush and deep emerald green. The gentle lapping of the pond could be heard along with the song of the morning birds. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the gardens layout, the flowers grew wherever they wished it appeared, yet it still held some semblance of care as if a gardener tended to these lovelies with tenderness and love. It was spectacular to behold. Rowan could only look around, eyes wide at the sheer beauty of it all. She had never seen anything of its like before.

As she looked around she happened to notice that off to one side in the distance was a lone tree. A Rowan tree. Her namesake. No other trees were present in the garden save that one. It puzzled her. She turned to Solas, eyes wide with wonder. “This place is remarkable!” she exclaimed. “Where are we?”

“You recall The Well of Sorrows? This is a similar place. This is the Garden of Love,” he stated. “Often the Elves would come here asking for love to be brought into their lives, they held ceremonies of marital bindings, or would meet here to declare their love for one another. Lovers would steal kisses by the pond under the moonlight.” For the first time since their reunion a genuine smile crossed his face.

“No Evanuris governs this Garden any longer for She is no more. Now there is no God, no Goddess," he continued. He felt it necessary to omit the fact that Mythal Herself had once been viewed also as the Goddess of love, but no more. If she had never heard the tales then now was not the time to dredge them up. "It no longer needs one," he continued, "and the people never felt it necessary to give name another. Its growth is now reflected by and in turn responding to the old Magics and emotions that have long seeped into its soil from a time long forgotten. It is both fed by and reflected by the desires of those who come here. It's existence is purely symbiotic in nature now.”

He turned to her, “ _This_ is what I wanted to show you.”

“I don't understand though, why here?” she asked him.

“I often found myself coming here after the fall of Corypheus,” he explained. “It was almost in complete ruins. The chaos that almost destroyed the world had, for a time, dashed all hopes of love from so many that once made this place flourish. Elves stopped coming, leaves had begun to wither and fall off of bushes, flowers wilted in the sun, the grass brown as if parched, and the waters all but dried up. Yet, in time, the Garden began to grow again, blossoming, as love found its way back into the hearts of people everywhere and the Elves returned. All of this after the fall of Corypheus. As you had saved the world so had you saved this place.” Again he smiled at her.

“I wanted to show you a place of beauty you helped save. More importantly, since our time together is limited, I would prefer that we were somewhere more... enjoyable. Instead of the Fade I believed here was a more suitable and pleasing location to share our time together.”

“What about that tree?” she asked him. “The Rowan tree, it's the only tree here and that doesn't make sense. Unless...” it dawned on her as she gazed at him. Of course! A tree named after her... _He_ had placed it here.

“Ah yes, that one is my doing,” he nodded. “It was a sentimental gesture that I implemented into the Garden after I left the world, and you, behind three years ago. I would find myself coming here often and watch as the Garden was being restored, and having the tree here always reminded me of you. It made me feel as though a part of you was always with me. I felt it only fitting to honor you in some small way for all that you had done. That,” he said, "And as a reminder of my love for you."

She was taken aback but what he said. It was such a touching gesture. The Magic of this place was extremely powerful or he had directed its growth, for it stood approximately 50 feet in height she judged. It was a little difficult to tell as her eyesight had begun to become a bit hazy now and then. Either way she was moved by this act of love and honor that he had performed. Especially here of all places.

He gestured towards the bench, “Come, sit with me.” He could sense the sickness getting stronger. It wouldn't be much longer now. A few hours at best. But he had spoken the truth. He wanted her surrounded in a place of beauty when the time came. _The end,_ he thought. _The end of his love forever._ He would never love another. No one would touch his heart quite like she had. He would die alone, without her. _His greatest fear come to life._ If only he could have found a way; An ancient spell or ritual to grant her effective immortality like the Elvhen in the days long past perhaps things would have been different? It was a fantasy he had toyed with earlier on, but there was no such secret was there?

He banished these thoughts as quickly as it came lest his face give them away. He did not wish for her to fret over him. Together they sat on the bench and she leaned into him resting her head on his shoulder breathing in his scent.

“There's more isn't there?” she asked noticing that he was suddenly adrift in thought.

“You do know me well,” he replied smiling down at her.

He procured a stone from deep within the folds of a leather pouch. It was of a make that she didn't recognize. She had never seen anything of its like before. It was perfectly round and shimmering, vibrant, as if alive and with all the colors of the rainbow swirling inside of it. It was like that of a miniature world that had captured every color imaginable.

“This gem is one of ancient Elvhen Magic,” he explained while showing it to her. “From a time before the arrival of the Humans from when the Elvhen were immortal. It is a Binding Gem. A gem that binds two souls that are in love as one, so long as both are willing.”

He handed it to her and placed it in the palm of her dainty hand and closed her fingers around it. A 'Binding Gem' he had called it. It had a vibration to it, alive with a Magic she had never felt before. She was trying to understand why he was showing her this, explaining all of this to her, but her ability to hold onto her thoughts and comprehend were becoming more difficult with each passing moment. Or perhaps she was just confused as to the meaning behind it all? It was hard for her to make out which.

Solas sensed she was experiencing difficulties but continued on, “When activated what one feels so does the other. If one is in pain or in trouble, the other would know. It could be used to locate one another as well. Think of it like a sending crystal if you will but more,” he explained. “It was used in a sacred ritual among our people that can only be performed once. Once bound there is no turning back. Not even if one of the two passed on to Uthenera. When complete this stone would split in two and each piece carries a part of the others soul. It would become a keepsake of great value worn by both lovers.”

She searched his face for the answer as to why he was telling her this. “For obvious reasons few ever performed the ritual for it was not a thing taken lightly,” he finished.

The full meaning of what he was saying was becoming clearer to her. “You want to perform this, with me? Do you mean to say an ancient marriage of sorts?” She asked in shocked confusion. If what he said was true then this was a serious matter, something so vastly important to him that she had never conceived of the possibility until now.

“Yes, Rowan... I mean to say it,” he beamed at her. “Rowan be my Bride. Let us spend our last moments together as Husband and Wife. Two souls as one. I know I don't deserve it after all I've put you through, all the suffering you've endured because of my doing, but I would have you leave this world surrounded by the beauty of this place and as my Queen.”

“But Solas, I'm dying,” she reminded him. “How will that affect you?” How would it affect him, indeed? Worse than any physical pain he had ever felt before he imagined. The physical pain would be nowhere near as hard to bare as losing her to death, however. Yet that was something he would not admit to her aloud. He hated keeping yet even more secrets from her, but he did not want her to refuse him this unless it was something she did not truly desire in her heart. He would take the cost of the physical pain, for what was to come was so much worse.

“It won't affect me, not in the way that you are thinking. That I can promise you. Will I feel your pain? Yes. But I can endure it. Losing you is going to hurt either way. My deepest regret,” he admitted to her, “Is not asking this of you sooner.” He looked out and over at the Rowan tree. “I seem to have many regrets when it comes to you, don't I?” he said softly with a hint of melancholy.

Apparently he had given this idea serious thought, and though his proposal made her heart soar, the knowledge that he had been considering this for who knows how long but hadn't asked sooner still stung.

“Rowan, I know that I do not deserve your-” she planted a kiss on his lips before he could complete his sentence. “My answer is yes, Solas. I would be honored," she exclaimed. "Your wife, your Bride, your Queen, whatever it is you want to call me, my answer is  _YES_!”

This brought a deep smile to his face and heart. “Come,” he said offering her his hand. “Stand with me.”

He took the gem from her hand gently before helping her stand. They were running out of time. He wasn't even certain this ritual would work with her. This was from a time when the Elvhen were immortal and she was many generations removed, a mortal at that, but that was not going to stop him from attempting it. And if it didn't work she would still be his Queen in his heart and mind until his last days. The words they would speak to one another would still hold true in the deepest recesses of his soul.

The warmth of the day was setting in so he removed her cloak from her shoulders and delicately laid it on the bench. In the rising sun she looked like the perfect Bride already in her white gown. He took her right hand in his, “Don't let go,” he told her then tossed the stone into the air above them with his free hand. He began chanting in Elvhen so ancient she didn't understand a single word. The air swirled around them, the hem of her dress gently lapping at her ankles, her hair licking around her face. Suddenly the gem hovered, frozen in the air above them. She looked at it then back at him. It was working, he thought in disbelief. He had half set himself up for failure. This, though, brought him immense delight.

He began to give her instructions on what to do next, “What I say you must also say in unison with me to complete the ritual. Look me in the eyes the entire time and do not let go of my hand until it is complete.” She looked at him with a question in her eyes. "You will know when it is complete... trust me," he answered her.

He taught her the words in the Ancient Elvhen tongue so they could recite them together. They roughly translated to:

 _Once was two now are one;_  
_One heart, one soul, forever joined._  
_As is now thus shall always be;_  
_For I am yours as you are mine._

When the appropriate time came they recited the words in unison and he was elated and both proud that she had picked them up so quickly. Especially in her given state of condition. Above their heads the stone began to spin upon itself in the air, refracting beams of colors from it. It was almost blinding but Rowan and Solas both kept their gazes locked on one another as was required. A wash of energy hit them both, the air crackling intensely. Suddenly it stopped moving and separated into two perfect pieces and began softly floating down. Rowan reached out with her free hand and one half gently landed in her palm and the other in his.

 _It had worked_. He was so certain that it wouldn't that he had prepared himself for failure, but it had worked just as it was supposed to. He had never seen the rite performed but he could feel her inside him and through him, and he inside her.

He felt the pain she had been trying to hide. The weariness that was sneaking up on her. _The beginning of the end._ But he could also feel the immeasurable amount of love for him pouring out of her, into, and through him. In turn she could feel the same, along with his sadness that ran deeper than she had ever truly known. She felt his love for her and his unbearable grief of what they both knew was to come soon enough. She reeled for a moment at the new sensations and emotions she felt and wondered if he did as well?

She turned her attention back to the half stone in her hand. It was now pitch black like the color of her eyes. She wondered at that. “What do I do with it?” she asked looking at him.

“I have just the perfect thing,” he smiled. “I suppose one could say I came prepared just in case you decided to agree to it,” he said nodding his head with a smile. Again he reached into his pouch and produced a beautiful necklace that looked to have been carved from white Dragon bone and it had a small indent that was a perfect match for the gem.

“May I?” he asked holding out his hand. "I have my Wolf jawbone," he remarked, "As for you? A Dragon bone for my Dragon slayer."

She handed him her half and he placed it in the nook of the necklace and as if on cue the two bound together. Then he placed the amulet over her head and around her neck. The amulet was of a beautiful design and it made her wonder how long he had been carrying these items and if he had carved it himself? _Had he carved it from one of the Dragons they had killed together?_ she wondered.

“And what will you do with yours?”

“The gem will take on any form it is fitted to,” he said as he lifted the Wolf jawbone necklace he had always worn. He allowed her to place his half in the crevices and true to his words it melded in perfectly just as hers had. While her stone had taken on the color of pitch black, his was a soft gray that matched his eyes. _The eyes,_ she thought, _the windows to the soul_. It made sense then that the two halves took on the color of the eyes of the wearer.

“Now what happens?” she asked him.

Instead of answering her with words, he answered her question with actions. He took her deep into his arms and kissed her feverishly upon the mouth. There was only one thing left to do that he wanted, no NEEDED. He could no longer tell what were his needs and desires versus what were hers. Where one began and the other ended.

Her skin was cool to the touch but he dismissed it. The bonding was unlike anything he had ever experienced and what was to come next was something they had both craved for many years. Something he had refused her in the past under the pretense of being nothing more than a simple Apostate. Under false pretenses he couldn't bring himself to bed her. How many times had he wanted to tell her the truth about himself? How many times had he been close but once again took the cowards road?

He gently tugged at her hair pulling her had back exposing her neck and began planting soft kisses down her face, then trailing down her neck then on to her collarbone. Deftly he undid the ties and buttons of her dress and it slid to the ground below while tracing her flesh with his fingers as he went. In turn she lifted his tunic above his head and tossed it on the ground where her dress lay. There was no gentleness left now as their desires rose to greater heights.

She trailed her fingernails down his chest to his abdomen then to the buckle of his belt. Undoing his belt she slid his pants down and he stepped out them. Together they stood in the Garden as naked and bare as their hearts and soul.

Solas picked her up and carried her to a patch of grass and laid her upon the earth. He gently bent her knees and parted her legs ever so slightly apart to afford him room. He laid between her legs taking one hand in his and lifted it above her head and planted it on the ground. This would be no gentle love making, they both realized that. This was years in the waiting and their passion for one another overcame them both. She snaked her free hand around his neck pulling him in for another kiss. Her loins were on fire and her nipples erect though she had never been with anyone before. She knew enough from other women that it would be painful so she steeled herself for it by relaxing her body as much as she could.

Solas sensed her slight hesitation so he kissed her again to distract her. He ran his hands over her breasts, perky breasts that fit into his hands perfectly. He traced a finger down her abdomen and then caressed her hip. The fact that she was a virgin never crossed his mind. She had never told him. He believed it was simply a display of shyness and modesty. He moved his hand down to manipulate her sex. She moaned as he caressed her and slid a finger between her folds.

She was wet and his finger glided smoothly back and forth as he toyed with her body to be completely ready for him. He didn't penetrate her with this fingers though. He wanted to save that for him, but she was slick from his toying with her sex. She moaned softly between her slightly parted mouth. She was ready for him so quickly. He wondered if it had anything to do with the binding crystal?

He wanted to ravish her from the onset yet still he wanted to try to be gentle with her in the beginning. He position himself between her legs and it took all of his willpower to enter her slowly as he guided his way inside her. She grimaced slightly and bit her lower lip when he was only partially in so he laid still allowing her body the time it needed to adjust to his member.

When she relaxed again he pushed in a little further. That's when he felt it. The unmistakable barrier indicating a truth about her he never knew. “ _She was a virgin,_ ” he realized suddenly. He would have no other choice now but to be as gentle as possible with her. He could feel the warmth of blood as he slowly broke through her barrier. He released her hand and cupped her face kissing her hoping to distract her from the sudden pain.

For all her worldliness he never considered that he would be her first lover. This revelation caused him to force himself to remain still inside of her a little longer, even though feeling her wrapped around him, her wetness and her heat, was driving him mad with desire. But he wanted to do this the right way. He simply focused on other areas of her body to allow her time to adjust to him being inside of her. He cupped a breast in one of his hands and suckled on it. He kissed the sides of her neck. He wanted to override the pain he had caused her so he focused on building up her pleasure again.

The pain subsided as Solas worked her body and she felt a stirring inside her. The warmth of his mouth on her breasts, his teeth on her flesh, his tracing her contours with his hands, all this caused a her arousal to quicken again. Slowly the pain turned to pleasure again and the feeling of him inside her, filling her so completely, made her insides feel like she was on fire. Her body quickly adjusted to him being inside her and she felt her body beginning to respond to him. She moaned softly as this new sensation of being filled rekindled her original arousal.

"Relax, vhenan. Your body will tell you what to do," he whispered in her ear.

Suddenly he felt her hips begin to move slowly beneath him. He matched her movements in sync slowly while allowing her to become more comfortable with his penetration. He allowed her to set the pace in the beginning as pain turned to pleasure once again.

Once he knew the pain had subsided he began to slowly quicken his pace and she matched him thrust for thrust. She arched her back and clawed at his back trying to find purchase as the pleasure coursed through her body. She never imagined it would feel this wonderful to be so filled and so completely taken. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Her nails racking across his skin drove him almost to the breaking point.

He grabbed one of her legs and pulled it up so his thrusts were deeper and harder. A few times he would thrust deep inside her and stop until she bucked her hips against his, her body begging for more. She rocked against him grinding her hips into his. He had wanted to make love to her during their first time, but neither of them had the willpower to not become overtaken by the other. How many years had this sexual tension been building between them? It no longer mattered. They had each other. For now, at least. And now was all that mattered to the both of them.

Suddenly Rowan felt a strange sensation overcoming her, her body was tensing up and she felt a building fervor. “Solas?” she asked alarmed. “Shhhh, my Queen. Allow it happen. This is the best part,” he reassured her.

She felt as if her body was climbing a mountain when the sensation suddenly took her over the edge and plummeted her into the depths of physical bliss she had never encountered before. Solas felt her legs lock up and her head was thrown back as her very first orgasm overcame her. It destroyed his resolve. He buried his face in her neck trying to hold back but feeling her clamp down around him inside sent pulses of pleasure through him that threw him into a sexual frenzy. It caused his thrusts to become more demanding, deeper and harder. That's when he finally lost control. With a few last thrusts into her his body let go as he spilled his seed deep inside her.

They lay that way for what seemed like an eternity, intertwined together, each gasping for air. He felt her legs go limp as she reeled from what just transpired. He remained inside her while he attempted to regain his composure. Their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat and the sweet aroma of sex permeated the air around them. Her hair was damp and clung to her face and neck. Eventually their breathing slowed to a normal pace. Solas was still inside her not wanting to leave the sweet folds of her sex. He felt himself hardening again so he kissed as he slowly dislodged himself from within her but with deep regret. He could make love to her for hours and he was straining not to take her again, this time more slowly, but he knew she could not handle another session.

He untangled his body from hers and helped her stand. Rowan's knees almost gave way instantly. She felt slightly weak all over but thought nothing of it, but Solas knew. It was quickening. Their love making most likely had hastened what little time they had remaining with the energy her body just expended so he lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the waters of the pond.

He cradled her in one arm as he washed her clean with his other; the sweat from her skin, the blood from her thighs, and finally rinsed out her hair.

He held her that way for a while allowing her to relax, floating in his arms. Finally he carried her out of the waters then spread out her cloak upon the grass and laid her upon it to dry off in the warm sun. He laid down beside her just looking down into her beautiful face, tracing the outlines of her jawbone, her lips, and her cheekbones with his finger. He wanted to remember every feature down to the last detail. She smiled up at him radiant and glowing. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, he thought.

He gathered her into his arms with her head on his chest and lay in the warming sun. Finally he gently guided her to her feet and helped her get dressed again before putting on his own clothing.

“You should sit,” he said to her. “I think I need to sit as well,” he chuckled lightly.

“Can we sit beneath the tree?” she asked him softly, her voice weakened.

“For you, my lovely Bride? Anything...” With that Solas lifted her into his arms and began walking towards the Rowan tree. Her head rested softly on his chest and for that he was grateful as she could not see him holding back the tears in his eyes.


	4. A Goddess for the Garden

Solas knew she was much weaker since their love making so instead of allowing her to walk he gathered her up in his arms to carry her. With her in his arms he fetched her cloak from the bench then headed towards the tree carrying her the entire way. The distance was short but it afforded him enough time to collect himself and hold back the tears he wanted to shed so terribly. _There would be time for tears soon enough,_ he thought to himself.

She felt so light in his arms. Though he was slender of frame himself, the very essence of what he was made him stronger than he appeared compared to the Elves of today's world. Still he was amazed by how frail of frame she truly was. It made her look all the more fragile to him. It added to her overall beauty rather than detract from it. He had never seen her in the nude until earlier so he could never truly appreciate the full scope of her beauty. Though shorter than him she was lithe and agile with slender arms and legs, perky yet supple breasts, and hips that swelled out gently. He pushed the memory of her naked form from his mind lest it distracted him too much.

Once he made it to the tree he sat down and rested his back against its trunk. He positioned her on his lap and draped both of her legs over his right one so he could cradle her in his arms. She rested her head on his chest and gazed up at him smiling as she caressed his face with her left hand. He reveled at her soft touch on his cheek, his love for her so overwhelming he couldn't help but see her as the most remarkable soul he had ever known. He could see her love for him deep in her eyes and feel it in his heart. It was more powerful now after the Binding. Their love reflected back and forth over one another in waves.

He held onto her possessively. As if at any moment someone would attempt to snatch her away from his arms. But it was not someone, it was _something_. He knew not what happened to the souls of mortals when they passed away through and beyond the Veil. It was one mystery he had never discovered the truth of. “ _Was there a place where their souls went to?_ ” he wondered. He had never bothered to find out. He had no reason to want to know before now.

He still couldn't help but blame himself for this. Had he not have given his Orb to Corypheus none of this would have happened to her. Then again, nor would he have ever met her. He couldn't decide which fate was worse. Her death would have been his doing no matter how one looked at it. But not having known her would have been worse, he decided.

Six years ago he would never have guessed that he would meet the only woman who would ever capture him so completely. That he would feel a love beyond all comprehension. Even when he left the Inquisition she was always on the forefront of his thoughts. He could never shake her from his mind. That was one of the reasons he could never stay away after she left Skyhold. He hadn't dared to go see her while she was still with the Inquisition, but after she left and moved out onto her own he began to haunt her grounds and dreams as she haunted his soul. Nor did he think that the death of another would be more heartbreaking than when the Evanuris had slain Mythal. “ _At least Mythal has Flemeth_ ,” he thought to himself almost enviously.

He took the hand that caressed his face into his and held onto it. That these very same hands could wield a staff with such deadly force always astounded him. He knew that the Anchor had greatly enhanced her abilities, but even without the Anchor it was easy to imagine that she had always been a powerful Mage by her own rights. Had she not been at the Conclave he wouldn't be surprised if in time her Keeper would have chosen her as their Second.

He recalled some of their adventures they had embarked on together. She had been a force to reckon with. She was bold in action and never hesitated against a foe. Not even when faced with demons. She was matched only by a slight few he had ever encountered during that time. He remembered how even in the midst of the war she furthered her studies in the esoteric realm and had expanded her talents as a Rift Mage. Manipulating the forces of the Fade itself had enhanced her Magic ten-fold. As the Apostate he pretended to be they were on par with each other and he was ever at her side.

He stared down at her face and then deep into her eyes. They were so dark they were actually black, as black as Obsidian. They appeared endless, eyes so deep he could get lost in them if he gazed into them for too long. He smoothed her hair away from her face gently so he could see the full beauty of it. His sorrow still ran deep down to his very core, but his heart emanated love of an even greater magnitude. He gently kissed her, her lips tasting as sweet as ever.

Rowan smiled then leaned her head back onto his arm so she could look up at the sun shining through the leaves and berries of the tree. The mixture of the golden rays of the sun through tree's green leaves and red berries brought back distant memories of her early years. She looked back at Solas wanting only to see his face now. That and she felt so tired after their lovemaking and so comfortable laying in his lap resting against his arm. They were arms that were stronger than they appeared. She could tell by how effortlessly he had picked her up. She caressed his face again, tracing her finger across his lips, then rested her hand on his chest. He took her hand in his and held it to his chest placing it upon his heart.

“Did I ever tell you how I got my name, Solas?” she asked him. “No,” he responded, “I don't believe you have, my Beloved.”

It was a tale she had never told anyone before. At least she was was certain she hadn't. She conjured up the story in her mind's eye and held onto to it so she could tell it to him. Her thoughts were becoming more cloudy with each passing minute. She was no fool, she knew her time was coming. She could feel it racing through her veins and see it in his eyes. The certainty of it. Yet she was unafraid. But she wanted to tell him this. She wanted to share at least this with him first.

“Tell me everything,” he said to her softly. He wanted to hear it; The story of her namesake, about her life growing up, he wanted to know the Rowan that was before being branded the Herald of Andraste, before becoming the Inquisitor. So he simply held her in his arms lovingly and listened to her as she told her story:

"This is the story that my father told me growing up," she explained.

"My parents were from two different Clans. They met during the Arlathvhen in Halamshiral many years before I was born. Her name was Arihris and his was Savin. She was a Mage and her Clan did not have enough room to accommodate another. Instead of turning her away as an Apostate or sending her to a Circle they decided to go attend the Arlathvhen in hopes that another Clan could take her in as the Dalish sometimes do if they have the room for another. My father told me that one evening he saw my mother there and knew he had to meet her, but he was too shy to make any advances. On one evening she left the gathering in the middle of the night. He spied her leaving and slipping away into the forest so he decided he would follow her. Since my father was an Archer he was able to follow her through the woods without her noticing. Then they reached the edge and she left the safety of the forest to stand beneath a lone Rowan tree out in the moonlight."

"When he saw her there he decided that he was left with no choice but to approach her lest he lose her forever. The Arlathvhen would soon be ending and he knew enough that she was to be joining another Clan due to her being a Mage. Were that to happen he would never see her again. In order to get to the tree where she stood he would have to leave the confines of the forest and make his way to where my mother was. Not knowing what else he could do he gathered up the courage to sling his bow over his shoulder and walk over to her. He said it was the most daring thing he had ever done,” she giggled at that. “Here was my father, who had hunted all sorts of animals and beasts, yet was petrified to speak to my mother!”

"My mother was startled and was about to dart off back into the forest. He knew he couldn't let that happen. He had fallen in love with her the moment he first laid eyes on her so he grabbed her arm without thinking thus preventing her being able to flee. Not knowing what to do or say he simply kissed her he told me. She was hesitant at first, being kissed by a stranger, but surprised him by returning his kiss." Rowan smiled as she recalled the first time _she_ kissed Solas in the Fade taking him completely by surprise. It was the boldest thing SHE had ever done. She focused her attention back to the story and went on, "From their very first kiss they knew they loved each other with all that they were. He said It was the boldest thing he had ever done in his entire life."

"They avoided each other at the Arlathvhen but each night they would steal away in the middle of the night and meet beneath the Rowan tree. The Arlathvhen was quickly coming to a close and my mother was going to be taken in by a different Clan. If that happened they could never be together. So they both decided to petition Keeper Nelthorn of Clan Lavellan to take her in instead. My father's Clan. They professed their love for one another and his Clan had enough room for another Mage. If they were denied they decided they would run off together and go live on their own elsewhere. Luckily Keeper Nelthorn agreed to take her in as well as bless their union and before the Arlathvhen ended they were wed beneath the very tree where they had first met."

“Tell me, Solas," she said turning her attention to him. "Do _you_ believe in love at first sight?” she asked.

“I did not... Not until the first time I saw you at Haven, before you even awoke. It was when I was stabilizing the Anchor,”  he confessed. "Yet now? You have made a believer in me." His admission brought a smile to his face.

“I do believe as well,” she said smiling in return.

“Go on,” he urged her, “I want to hear more. I want to hear more about how you were named. I want to hear about everything and anything.” He could listen to her for ages.

She continued, "Well my mother did not survive my birthing. So my father named me Rowan after the very tree that had begun it all. He never did take another woman into his life after her passing. My father spent all his time doting on me. He said I looked just like her. That I had her snow white hair, her deep black eyes, and her facial features. That whenever he looked at me I reminded him of her. I think it saddened him a little, but also brought him joy to have a constant reminder of her. He said I got my shyness from him, though."

She smiled. “Yes, me, shy.” He laughed heartily at that. The Rowan _he_ knew talked to everyone, the Rowan _he_ knew drilled him countless times about his adventures; What he knew about the Breach and the Veil, what he could teach her about various Spirits, the stories he was willing to share. Not to mention the endless flirting between them that _she_ had initiated as well as the first kiss between them _she_  planted on his lips during the Fade dream when they first arrived at Skyhold. He laughed at the thought again. “Don't laugh!” she giggled poking at his chest playfully. “The Inquisition _cured_ me of that. I had very little choice but to learn to interact with other people. I simply took my cues from everyone else.”

“Even me, the quiet Apostate?” he asked with a grin. “Yes even YOU, silly.” She giggled again. He had never heard her giggle so much than he did today. It was endearing. “Keep going,” he urged her. He wanted to hear everything about her past. “What about _your_ life? Tell me something about you.”

“The one thing I remember is how much I used to love drawing. I had such an obsession for it. Whenever we were camped in a forest or near trees I would sneak away and climb them at night to draw pictures of what I imagined the heroes in the tales I had been taught would have looked like. I can't imagine I was very good at it,” she laughed softly, “but I loved drawing anything and everything that came to my overactive imagination. Dragons, Dwarfs, even Humans we interacted with on occasion. Eventually my father gave me a book that was full of blank pages and sticks of charcoal in which to draw.”

“When my Magic manifested I would often get in trouble with Keeper Nelthorn whenever I was caught drawing instead of studying,” she laughed again. “But the forest? The forest was my favorite thing. I think that is why I chose to live on the forest edge this past year.” She had a far away look in her eyes now as she thought about it. “It all seems so long ago, doesn't it?” she asked.

“Haven, Skyhold, even my little cottage all seems like a distant memory. As if today was an eternity, a dream from which I never want to awaken from. Today I lived a lifetime, as if we've always been here, you and I. Today," she said, "has been the best day of my entire life."

She looked over at the stone platform with its archway that overlooked the pond. The platform where the Eluvian stood and the stone bench was perched. “It seems so sad that there is no God or Goddess for this place,” she said with a sigh. “I feel as if it should have one, don't you?”

“Yes, I believe so as well, my love,” he agreed. The idea that it didn't seemed to sadden her. All of a sudden she clutched his tunic and looked at him with fear in her eyes. “Don't send me back, Solas,” she begged him. “I don't want to be returned to Skyhold, or my little cottage. I want to remain here.” Tears began to well up in her eyes and there was a desperation in her voice.

“Promise me, Solas. Promise me that I will be here forever,” she begged of him softly. She had a look of sheer anguish and her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ma nuvenin, my lovely Bride,” he said shedding a lone tear down his face. “It will be as you wish.”

She had a far away look in her eyes now. He braced himself for what was about to occur. “Solas?” She spoke his name in a faint whisper.

“What is it, Rowan?” he asked. His fear was mounting with each heartbeat.

She smiled at him. He could see the light dimming in her eyes as she struggled to focus. “Kiss me again,” she asked of him. When he finished kissing her she pulled his face closer to hers and whispered in his ear, “Don't worry my love. Everything will be fine, you'll see.”

He cradled her in his arms as she rested her head back. His whole body tensed as he felt the pain of her death-throes coursing through him. She was dying. Right now in his very arms. Suddenly she went limp all over and her last breath was escaping her lips. Solas held onto her tightly pulling her into him, holding her head against him with his hand.

“Rowan?” he asked knowing he would not get a response. “No. No, no, no...” he wept. “Please no,” he begged to no one and nothing. Cradling her listless body tightly to him the tears finally came. He rocked back and forth gently holding her and allowed them to fall freely while choking back a sob. “ _It is done_ ,” he thought to himself.

He gathered her up and carried her back to the platform where the Eluvian still stood and laid her delicately upon the bench. He smoothed her hair and arranged her dress as if she was merely resting. She still had a faint yet peaceful smile upon her face.

There was only one thing left to do. “I hope you can forgive me one day, vhenan,” he said planting one last kiss on her lips. Suddenly his eyes flashed a bright blue like lightning as she was replaced by stone.

“ _A Goddess for the Garden_ ,” he thought holding onto her cloak.


	5. The Wings of Hope

Solas stood for what seemed like an eternity. He was in no hurry to leave. He was torn; part of him wanted to stay here for the rest of his days, the other wanted to turn away and never look back. Even so his mind was still reeling and his heartache would not allow him to turn away from her just yet, there was much work to be done still. He had no choice but to remain while he completed all his tasks and plans he had laid out before him.

He looked at her lifelike encasing. He had ensured that she was cast in pure white, like alabaster; white like the shade of her hair. He would not have his love look like those of his enemies, the jagged gray of those that had crossed him whenever he utilized this ability. He wanted every fine part captured; the smallest details of her face, the folds of her dress, the waves in her hair that had cascaded down her one shoulder.

He laid her cloak down on the platform and just stood there allowing his tears to flow freely unable to look at her. Forget-me-not flowers had begun to bloom in the garden. A chain reaction of their conjoined emotions. Another reminder of her that would always be here. He had brought sorrow to the Garden of Love.

 _What have I done?_ He asked as doubt crept in.

He cast his uncertainty aside. But what about the others? What was he to do? Those still loyal to the Inquisition and to her deserved to know some semblance of truth, but he of all people could not be the one to deliver the news. Not while they still hunted for him. He did not fear them but he would rather not have to battle those that had stayed behind and had been so loyal to her. He had betrayed everyone.

No, he thought, he would have go to her home himself along with a trusted friend to pack up her personal belongings. He didn't bother to wonder who to take just yet. That could wait, would have to wait.

Yes, I still have much to do yet, he thought to himself again.

He decided would have her armor sent to Skyhold with a letter stating only that she had passed on. He would let them speculate as to how. They would probably blame him for it and they would not be far from the truth. Just not in the way they would have imagined as there would be no body to be seen.

The only possessions of hers he would keep were her cloak he still had and her staff that he would retrieve from her house himself. Those items would remain with him.

“ _Cole perhaps?_ ” he wondered. No. Due to being a spirit of Compassion it would be all too easy for him to skim the truth in his suffering. He wanted no one to know the truth of the matter. No, he would leave Cole to help those hurting at Skyhold, but for this task it would have to be someone else he trusted explicitly. He would deal with that later.

As for Rowan herself? She would remain here just as she asked of him, just as promised. An alabaster figure. _A Goddess for the Garden_ , he thought to himself again.

Not before too long he sensed the presence of another. He had placed a barrier around the Garden when Rowan and he first arrived so that they could spend their time here undisturbed, yet someone had been able to pierce its Magic. He knew of only one person capable of doing this and where normally he would welcome their presence he wished only to be left alone.

_Mythal and Flemeth..._

“Well, well... What have we here?” Flemeth asked. “This is a surprise. Of all the places I thought to find you I never once suspected you would be here,  _Dread Wolf_ ,” she said with a slight hint of amusement in her voice.

She was slowly making her way from the opening in the enclosure the led into the Garden but her voice carried clearly. She headed towards the stone platform on which Solas stood. Flemeth's body may have been old but she still sauntered with a sultriness that bespoke of a time from which she was a young beauty that captured the hearts of many men. Still, in her aging years her stance commanded respect and confidence.

She could see an Eluvian up on the platform where Solas was standing with his back to her. She knew he had already sensed her presence before she had spoken. With Mythal being a part of her there was no way he hadn't. She noticed that he was standing in front of a stone bench and could make out that it had something on it but not what it was. It's stark white contrast stood out from the gray stone that was everywhere else from the platform to the steps. His frame blocked her view but whatever it was it had not been here before.

“Why have you come for me?” he asked still not turning to face her. He did not want to be seen this way, did not wish to be disrupted. Instead he cast his gaze to the Eluvian that stood behind Rowan. He could easily just slip through it now instead of engaging her in conversation. But Flemeth was crafty, especially with the essence of Mythal within her. He could not dare for her to get too close to Rowan, to discover the truth of what had happened here. He had to turn her away no matter the cost.

“Why I have been searching everywhere for you, why else?” And she _had_ been looking for him. It had not been an easy task to locate him either. He had disabled the ability for anyone to enter the Crossroads or utilize the Eluvian's. She had to have Mythal guide her on distant routes of the many possible locations of where their friend might be. _The matter is urgent,_ Mythal had whispered to Flemeth's inner mind. Yet finding him here of all places was a puzzle to her as well as to Mythal, yet here he was In The Garden of Love. Such a mystery this was turning out to be.

Curiously she noticed that the Garden was teaming with forget-me-nots that were springing up everywhere. It made everything that much more perplexing. Solas, the Garden, the forget-me-nots; Something had happened here, and recently too.

“Now is not the time.” she heard him say as she drew nearer. “I do not wish to be disturbed. Not here of all places, not now of all times,” he said plainly. “Please just... go.”

“I'm afraid that is not something I can do for you, old friend,” she said replied in turn.

She moved closer but with a little hint of caution in her steps now. Something about the way he refused to face her unnerved her. Something was greatly amiss.

Just as she reached the bottom stair Solas put up a hand motioning for her to not come any further. Something in his gesture gave her pause so she halted her progress. His body went from the slouched one he had when she first arrived to a full stiffened stance. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

“Don't come any closer,” he said in a low growl. “I said now is not the time, Flemeth. Please do not make me ask you again,” he warned her.

Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. Something truly unspeakable must have happened for Solas to dismiss her so readily. In all the years she had known him never had he spoken to her in such a threatening manner. She knew that though they shared a deep and long friendship it was mostly due to Mythal. They had a mutual respect for one another, but she was fully aware that he would not hesitate to kill her if he so chose. Especially if or when he decided he wanted Mythal's power for himself. That was an inevitability she had always known would one day come to pass.

Would he dare do that now? And here of all places? Uncertain of the answers it was enough to keep her from advancing any closer.

Though she did not fear death she doubted that was why Mythal had sent her on this pursuit of Solas. Rarely did Mythal ask anything of her, so when she did Flemeth felt compelled to oblige. After all, Mythal was a part of her now and had been for as long as she could remember, and it had extended her lifespan for a millennium.

“You see, I'm afraid I was not given a choice in the matter,” She spoke softly hoping to alleviate the tension that was in the air.

“Then tell me, _witch of the wilds_ , why have you come?” His words were meant to wound her. That was the name the people called when she had resided in the Korcari Wilds. Against her better judgment she took went up another step. There were three altogether, she had but one left to go. “If only I knew that myself, for it was not I gave rise to seek you out. It is at the behest of Mythal that I have come.” She hoped that would buy her some leeway. She could not leave, Mythal was pressing her to stay.

 _One last favor_ , Mythal had promised. They both craved the sweet departure from the realm of the living, their years had been many. But Mythal had demanded one last thing from her. But what was it? Mythal was silent.

He partially turned his face in her direction and Flemeth finally was able to see the misery that haunted him. Though his voice carried a hint of annoyance, his torment was obvious. What had happened to cause this, she wondered?

“So Mythal sent you?” he asked. “Tell me why and then be on your way. I have no time for games.” He ensured that he continued to block her view of Rowan.

“Had Mythal told me I would have already told you,” she admitted to him. “She said only that it was a matter of urgency to find you.”

“What could Mythal possibly want from me?” he asked her. Had Mythal sensed what had happened and sent Flemeth after him? And if so to what end?

She took a tentative step closer to him again. “You of all people know how She is at times," she quipped. "Quite cryptic when it suits Her. Fairly annoying this time around to be honest. I am merely an advocate in this endeavor.” Flemeth noticed he was holding something in his arms, clutching it tightly. It was made of white velvet and fur trim. “ _A woman's cloak?_ ” she wondered, yet there was no one here save him.

“What endeavor could possibly be so urgent as to disturb me at this moment?” he asked softly. He had a far away look in his face, as if his mind had drifted elsewhere while gazing at the Eluvian.

“I was to find you at all cost. She told me only that something has happened. She's deeply concerned for you. That once I found you I would know what it was and only when the time was right.”

She approached Solas slowly watching his reaction to her as she took the steps up and went to his side. He seemed tense at first and then the posture of deep morose overtook him again as he bowed his head and looked at Rowans figure before him.

Once Flemeth was at his side she too looked at the bench. She finally saw that which he had been preventing her from seeing until now by blocking her view.

A figure of a woman had been arranged on the bench, her positioning that of a woman sleeping peacefully. A tender smile upon her face as if having a pleasant dream. It was alabaster, she noted, but the features were unmistakable. She recognized the woman immediately. It was the Inquisitor. Flemeth gasped in surprise.

“Solas? Is this who I think it is? Is that the The Herald of Andraste... the _Inquisitor_?” she asked in shock. If indeed the fabled Herald of Andraste had passed away then it explained everything about his current mood and mindset.

“She's not the Inquisitor, and she's no Herald of Andraste,” he struck her with his words. Then the sadness returned once again. “... she's _Rowan_. And she's gone and it was all my own doing.” For once he turned to Flemeth and allowed fresh tears to course down his face unabashed. He could not hold them back if he tried. The wound was still too fresh in his heart. It had only been less than an hour since it happened. He could not gain his composure now if he had to.

“I am so sorry, old friend.” She knew he had feelings for the Elven woman, but until now she hadn't known just how deep his feelings for her had ran. His face was raw with emotion. She had never witnessed him so wounded as he was now.

Flemeth looked at the laying statue of Solas' lost love. Rowan's passing had to have been very recent. She had known him to do this before, turning foes to stone, but never anything like this. Never with such precision and detail, and never so smooth and white. Was this why Mythal wanted her here? “ _No there is more,_ ” the voice within her said. She would know it when it was revealed to her and no sooner. She must discover it herself. Mythal would offer no more than that. It frustrated her to no end. Only Mythal could ruffle her feathers so.

Staring at the statue there was something odd about it that she could not place her finger on. It wasn't the fine details, it wasn't the lifelike appearance, nor was it that he had chosen white instead of the usual stone gray. No something else was there if only she could figure it out. And why here of all places? Of course, the forget-me-nots! _She had died here in this very Garden._ He had placed her on the bench afterwards as a tribute of his love for her. She reached out a withered hand to touch the statuette.

“Don't!” he shouted suddenly. “Step away from it _now_!” There was a certain desperation in his voice, a sudden panic in his eyes. He couldn't take the chance of Flemeth touching Rowan. _She will know of my foolishness_ , he thought to himself.

He reached out to pull her away but it was too late, it had been done. Flemeth felt a tingling vibration emanating from the statue. This was wrong, everything about it was wrong. It was warm to the touch instead of cold, and there was a slight magical hum to it. That's when it dawned on her; This was no mere statue, and this was no dead body he had turned to stone. It was Rowan and she was still alive inside an alabaster casing! He had not turned her _INTO_ stone, he had simply _COVERED_ her with a layer of it! Her eyes widened at the truth that was just unveiled to her. “Solas, what have you done?” she asked him alarmed at this discovery. A shiver coursed through her veins. Flemeth pulled back her hand as if shocked by electricity. What had he done indeed and more importantly, _why_?

“I did what I had to,” he muttered. “You wouldn't understand... I had no other options. _She was dying,_ ” He was shuddering now. “In my very arms she was dying. I felt her soul ready to escape her body. Before it could I used my power to cast a spell of eternal stasis. It's a power I discovered long ago but never used until now,” he explained. “She is unconscious. Completely unaware of anything.” He went on, “She will not feel anything, or hear anything, she will not even dream. Nor will she want for anything. She is frozen in time. She will not age and she will not die. She will simply remain as she was the moment I cast the spell. I alone am the only one who can reverse the spell. She is safe now.”

“But why, Solas,” she asked. “It is not right to keep her this way. You need to let her go,” Flemeth said gently. Her heart wept for him, her dear friend. She couldn't imagine what he must be feeling to even conceive of doing this to Rowan.

“No, you don't understand, Flemeth. Neither of you do. If Mythal sent you here to talk me into releasing her then you've already lost. Once I have accomplished what I set out to do to the Veil I will save her and then I will revive her.” He shrugged her hand off of his shoulder.

“You can't save her, Solas. You must see the truth in that. Once you awaken her the death that was overcoming her will continue its original course.” This was so out of character of her friend.

“I will find a cure...” his voice trailed off momentarily. “There has to be a way to reverse the sickness the Anchor caused. I will find it or create it. I know I will. Then I can reverse the spell and she doesn't have to die. I have no choice but to try...” he looked at Flemeth. He could see her disapproval. “You don't understand, I love her too much to lose her. I have to try.” He bent down and caressed Rowan's cheek as if it were her flesh. So tenderly and lovingly. Then he stood back up and looked at Flemeth pleadingly. She had seen him struggle with pain and loss before. Her mother's instincts for him kicked in and she leaned in, pressing her cheek to his and gave him a gentle hug. He allowed it for but a moment.

“Do you truly believe that you can accomplish this?” she asked. Things were slowly coming together for her, but she had to be certain. She needed HIM to be certain and that he had thought this through thoroughly. “And when do you plan to execute this idea of yours? In the middle of a burning world of chaos and destruction? With the Evanuris are awoken? She is now a target that can be used against you.”

“I will protect this place from the Evanuris,” he declared. “It will exist in a realm parallel to this one. A pocket of magic similar to the Crossroads. It will be one they will not be able to detect. And the Elves who visit here will never be able to recall how they arrived here, nor will they be able to retrace their steps. It will be as if they stumbled upon it by accident and once they are gone will have no memory of the path that led them here. It will be like a distant dream. For all intents and purposes this place will look like a simple field of grass. One would be able to walk right through it and it would remain undetected save for those seeking love."

"When I am done and she is revived I plan to give up my immortality in exchange for a mortal life. Then she and I can continue to live out the rest of our days as Husband and Wife. We can be a real family with children and grow old together. That is my dream, that is my plan, and nothing you or Mythal can do will change my mind. I will not live in a world without her.” He had certainly thought this through.

Flemeth was beside herself. Give up his immortal soul? What he spoke of was sheer madness. His grief obviously had driven him over the edge beyond normal comprehension. “And what if while you are away something were to happen to her?” she asked. It was an honest question at that. Had he even considered the thought? “How would you know? How can you protect her when you are not here?”

“My binding gem would alert me of any danger to her,” he said with a slight grin.

Binding gem? No, she thought. He can't possibly mean what was implied by that statement. “You mean to tell me that you performed the ancient binding ritual with a mortal and it worked? Only a small few of your people ever performed it but never with a mortal. Do you know what you have done? What this could mean for you if something were to happen to her?” She still couldn't believe all of this, the binding ritual, her stone burial here, this bizarre plan of his. How long had he been considering all of this, she wondered. "Solas I know you loved her but this? It's incomprehensible."

“Not loved, Flemeth ... _LOVE_...” he corrected her. “And I love her enough to chance that risk. I will willingly risk my own life for her.”

Flemeth looked at Solas then at the eternally sleeping Rowan. THIS was what Mythal had wanted her to understand, to discover. She finally understood. It wasn't to attempt to talk him out of this folly, but to stay and become the guardian of Rowan.

“Then I will stay with her, old friend,” she stated.

“That is not necessary-” Flemeth cut him off with a wave of her hand. “It is. As for you, you can not return here while the Evanuris are a threat. Do you understand? If they find her they will destroy her or worse take her and use her as a lure knowing that you would do anything to save her. You must stay away until they are dealt with and someone needs to be here to protect her. You cannot do both.” Did she dare? Why yes she did. "And the Eluvian must go. It can not remain. Its Magic is too strong and if stumbled upon you've left the door wide open as it were.” This was both a demand and a command.

As much as he hated to admit it she was right. He knew not how long this would take, and then there was the matter of the cure, but she was right. He could not return. His heart nearly shattered at the thought. How long would it be 10 years? A 100? Perhaps even 1,000 years he'd have to go without her back at his side. And if he could not cure her, then forever.

As for Flemeth, though she did not agree to what he had done, that was not her place. She looked at him sternly and said, “For both your sake's you must do as I say. Leave and take the Eluvian with you, and until the time is right do not return. Not even once. If something happens only then should you return.”

Flemeth knew what needed to be done next. Once again she would take on the name many had known her by in days of old, _Asha'bellanar_. Being an expert shapeshifter she could take on any form she chose; be as young or as old as she wished, change her entire appearance, even take on a powerful Dragon form. Looking like an Elvhen was but a slight of hand trick for her.

Before Solas could say another word she had already transformed herself into an Elvhen woman of the same approximate age. Gone was her headdress and her regal clothing. She wore a commoners brown dress and simple leather shoes. Her gray hair that was once bound by rope was now loosened and down to her shoulders. Gone was her old appearance and now she was a balance of both Flemeth and Mythal in features. She looked motherly. He saw the subtle hints of Mythal in her face and wondered if She had helped guide the transformation?

“As for the Elves, well they won't mind me. I am merely the grounds-keeper and they will forget me as quickly as they do their paths,” she laughed. "Not to mention, I am quite familiar with this place," she said with a knowing smile. Yes, once they called to Mythal for gifts of love and accredited love found to her. Flemeth had been shown many things by Mythal over their time together.

"I will care for your Bride, dear Solas," she said.

He choked back the tears that threatened to come to the surface and whispered a simple, “Thank you.”

Solas kissed Rowan's stone lips tenderly one last time and whispered to her words he wished she could hear, “Ar lath ma, vhenan” ... _I love you, my heart_...

Flemeth went about casting a spell to recreate the hut that the “ _witch of the wilds_ ” had once resided in at the Korcari Wilds. Simple yet sufficient. True to her nature Flemeth would have another daughter of sorts it appeared. The crackling of magic could be felt in the very air as she realized that Solas was casting his spell intended to mask and protect the Garden of Love as well as his beloved Queen. She wasn't familiar with this spell, this was beyond even her means, but the air shimmered in the sunlight ever so vaguely around the entire perimeter of the Garden of Love. She could feel the shifting in the air. They were now in a pocket of the Fade. Only the dreamers of true and pure love would ever step foot in here. Solas looked back one last time before slipping through the Eluvian. The Eluvian then disappeared behind him as if it had never been. She hoped for both he and Rowans sake that his plan would be successful. "Good bye, old friend," she said to the wind.

She watched as a lone butterfly fluttered to and fro in the Garden. “ _The wings of hope_...” she thought smiling to herself. 


	6. The Dawn of a Millennium

A thousand years passed and the world burned in the chaos that ensued. Solas had tore down the Veil that separated the living realm and the spirit realm thus allowing the Fade to blanket the world once more. Spirits had spilled out across the world and many had their natures perverted by the pandemonium and terror perverting them into the demons. The demons terrorized every living soul. There was not a single place safe from the turmoil and destruction that shook the very foundations of the world save for a few remote areas untouched by a living soul inhabited only by fauna and wildlife.

The earth was scorched and the waters boiled. Gone was the age of Humans, gone were the Dwarfs, gone even the Qunari. Only a few ruins of what once was remained.

During this time the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones joined forces against Solas due to the imprisonment they had been tricked into. The Great Betrayal, it had been called. As a thousand years passed Solas waged his war against them. Too weak from their long slumber made his job all the more easier in dispatching them. Yet even after all this time there still remained a small few he had yet to find. In turn they hunted the Trickster God known as the Dread Wolf even as he hunted them.

Slowly the earth had begun to heal and the seas and oceans cooled once more. Though it was receding, many parts of the world still suffered from the scorched land or waters that held no living life. It killed or poisoned any and all that came into contact with the land or drank from the waters. Those few that survived were usually driven to madness until they succumbed to its poison or were put out of their misery. Those spirits that had been perverted into demons were all but gone save in a few remote areas. These Solas guided into death so they could plaque the lands no more when he came across them.

Though the world was nowhere near the paradise Solas had wanted in time he returned the Elvhen to the lands. His people, he thought to himself. None bore a single vallaslin any longer. He had removed their slave markings using the same spell he had once used on Rowan. He had kept the Elvhen safe from the coming war in The Sanctuary, gathering as many to him in the years beforehand to a place Solas had built much like the safety the Garden was under. They alone did not have to suffer the chaos that had ripped the world apart. Instead they came out of hiding one by one into a world that was foreign and new and meant for them and them alone.

The world belonged to the Elvhen and the Spirits once again. Magic flowed freely everywhere and generations of Elvhen quickly adapted to this new world and in time began to look like those of the time of Elvhenan, their lifetimes began expanding and magic was a way of life once more.

Yes, a thousand years had passed and Fen'Harel had been busy. He fought and worked with a ferocity unparalleled for he had a greater purpose; his Rowan. It was she that kept him going when he began to waver, it was the thought of her that had kept him strong. But he had yet to uncover a cure for his beloved Queen. He worked tirelessly trying spell after spell, potion after potion, drawing from the raw substance of the Fade itself, but he was no closer than he had been a thousand years ago when it all began.

Sometimes it would throw him into despair, but the warmth of his Gem when he clutched his talisman would renew his resolve. She still lived and for now that was enough. Though he desperately wanted to see her he had heeded Flemeth's command to keep his distance. And so far he had been able to distract the remaining Evanuris and Forgotten Ones enough to keep their attention drawn away from that particular location, though he wondered for how long. The very thought of it would begin his research for a cure anew.

Though Flemeth lived under the name Asha'bellanar to the Elvhen it hadn't been necessary to use it often. The Elvhen would come just as they had once long ago, but Mythal herself had been all but forgotten throughout the generations during their time in The Sanctuary. The Garden thrived even in the chaos as it was linked to the dreams of the Elvhen during the thousand year chaos. Once they had returned to world they had begun finding their way to the Garden once again. Girls brought daisies for love, couples wed beneath the Rowan tree, others came to profess their love for one another; all just like in younger years before the Evanuris had slain Mythal. The very crime in which Solas had punished them for.

The Elvhen paid Flemeth no mind. The generations that came to their little Garden had long forgotten the names of the past; Flemeth, Mythal, even the Inquisitor herself. Oftentimes they would bring food and other gifts to Flemeth, thanks to the odd “Elvhen” woman who maintained the grounds.

There was one significant change, however; The Elvhen looked upon the statue of Rowan herself as the Garden's Goddess and dubbed her “Rowhanna” after the Rowan tree. They had even chiseled the name elegantly into stone awning that arched over the front of the bench. They would bring their offerings and blessings of thanks to where she lay and place them near her and pray to her. It was to her they would pray to; Rowhanna. _If only they knew the truth of such accuracy they were close to_ , Flemeth often remarked to herself in slight amusement.

Yet over a thousand years of such supplication had caused a chain reaction in the Magic of the Garden that neither Flemeth nor Solas could have perceived; that a millennium of Goddess worship in the Garden would have an effect on the very essence of Rowan herself. Oftentimes when Flemeth would busy herself with the upkeep of carting away the offerings and releasing them into the pond or would dust off debris from Rowan she could almost hear the faint hint of a humming and the vibration when she would touch her seemed stronger. The Elvhen were putting such devotion into her that it almost seemed as if Rowans unconscious self was picking up at it, gathering it into herself during her slumber. To them, she was their Goddess.

Flemeth would get a troubled look on her face then dismiss it. If Mythal knew what was happening she remained silent so she brushed any concerned thoughts away. As a matter of fact, Mythal had remained silent more often than not in the last millennium.

Flemeth had grown accustomed to solitary life once again save for one thing; it had been a long time since she had a daughter to raise. Thus she poured her devotion into the care of Rowan as much as she could. Sometimes she would catch herself talking to her, reassuring her that everything was going to work out, Rowan would be fine , that Solas would find a way. She was almost as devout in her care of Rowan as she had been to any daughter and almost as much as the Elvhen poured into her.

Solas had left Rowans staff and cloak behind and she had carefully placed the items in her tiny hut for safe-keeping for when the time came, if it ever did. So she busied herself with the making of new clothing for Solas' Bride as if at any moment she would awaken.

 _Surely he was close to a cure_ , she often thought. Perhaps, she believed, he was merely waiting until the last of the others had been dispatched? After all he would not awaken his beloved Rowan and place her in danger.

Night fell and Flemeth went about stoking a little fire and preparing stew within her hut. Her furnishings were modest; a table in which to eat at with two chairs, tub and basin in which to clean, herbs growing in the windows, a simple rug, and an overstuffed chair that she often slept in more than the bed itself most of which she had constructed with her magic, the herbs and meat gifts from the Elvhen. From where she sat she had a great view of Rowan at any given time. Flemeth ate her stew and began dozing off in her chair.

That's when she heard it. The sound of stone cracking. Had Solas returned to fetch his Bride? No. Something was going horribly wrong. She jumped out of her chair and rushed to her door and from there she could see it as clear as day; Rowans encasing was cracking like an eggshell. She could hear the stone cracking all over.

 _How could this be?_ She thought aghast with terror. Had Solas' alabaster spell worn off after all this time? Without the cure Rowan would certainly die!

 _Go to her, now!_ Mythal urged her. She needed no further instructions. Indeed there were pieces falling off even now exposing pale skin here, small hints of fabric there; Like a chick breaking free from its shell. She MUST find a way to contact Solas.

 _I will let him know soon enough_ , Mythal assured her. _We must save her..._


	7. After the Storm

Mythal whispered her plans to Flemeth as the last bits of alabaster fell off the laying figure of the still enchanted Rowan. “I understand,” she muttered out loud with a small hint of sadness in her voice. Mythal was leaving her after all these years. She had yearned for the sweet release from life and originally was going to allow Solas to take her powers but now things had changed and Mythal had chosen a different course. That and there was more that Mythal had imparted to her regarding the girl's path, but as of that very moment saving the girl's life had become paramount.

Without Mythal Flemeth would begin to age more rapidly so there was not much time. She had far exceeded her human lifespan and knew that she wouldn't last much longer, nor would her powers. Before Mythal left her Flemeth raised her arms and summoned a great storm to the Garden. She needed the Elvhen to abandon the premises and she would also need to keep them at bay for the remainder of the day and possibly throughout the night as well as make them forget what they had witnessed. She could not allow a single memory of this event to escape the Garden.

The clouds condensed and the sky darkened. Rain began pouring forth as a flash of white light surrounded Flemeth and then drifted outwards and away from her. She felt the emptiness without Mythal inside her; an emptiness she had not known for years beyond counting.

Flemeth looked at the wisp essence that had pooled out of herself and gathered in front of her, the shape vaguely that of a woman. Mythal's essence had left her taking her God-hood with her. Flemeth watched on as it split into two separate compositions; one a bright blue-white ball of glimmering light, the other a dimmer wavering light green with a barely discernible form. The light green essence seemed to float up towards the sky then dissipate, the other hovered over the girl enveloping her before sinking down into her entire body.

Suddenly the girl gasped and slid off the bench hitting her head hard as she attempted to stand, her knees giving out on her. Knees she hadn't used in a thousand years. Flemeth didn't have time to process that curiosity as she rushed to where the girl lay unconscious. Lightning split the sky and struck the stone awning just above them, but Flemeth was able to pull the still unconscious girl out of way of the falling debris in time. As Flemeth got her safely away from the stone platform her black eyes began to blink open. She was now laying in the grass gasping for air and moaning from the blow she had taken to her forehead.

Opening her eyes she looked up and saw Flemeth standing above her with an outstretched hand. “Come with me, my child!” the woman cried out over the sound of storm. “We need to get out of the storm!” The rain battered down on them as the tempest waged on and Flemeth pulled the weakened girl to her feet.

She helped walk the girl towards her hut. She stumbled here and there leaning her weight on Flemeth. She had a small lump on her forehead where she had struck her head when she had fallen. She probably suffered a minor concussion but the bump would heal quickly. _Much quicker than would be normal,_ Flemeth remarked to herself.

They made their way into the hut and she assisted the girl onto one of the chairs at the table. “Come, sit down while I fetch a rag to dry your hair with.”

Her little bedroom would have to be expanded and an additional bed added she realized as she went into the sleeping quarters to fetch a drying rag from beside the wash basin. There was no telling how quickly Solas would take to arrive or how long the girl would be here. With the wave of her arm the bedroom transformed to accommodate two people instead of just one. From the other room she was certain the girl did not notice since she sat her in the chair with her back facing away from the sleeping area.

She would have to clean the debris outside later she realized glancing out a window, but it could wait until tomorrow. For now she allowed the storm to abate to a light rain to keep the Elvhen at bay.

Flemeth returned with the rag and began drying down the girl's wet locks then combed out her stark white hair. Once she had finished she helped the girl to a standing position uncertain of the young woman's physical condition. She guided her to the bedroom quarters.

“Here,” she said opening an armoire. “Now get out of those wet clothes and change into something dry,” she urged her. She gestured to the armoire that held the many gowns Flemeth had made over time for such a day, but she never imagined the day would be one such as this.

“Who are you?” the girl asked Flemeth. “Where am I?” She looked at her surroundings but nothing triggered a solitary memory. She hadn't enough time in the storm when she awoke to take in the scenery of the Garden either. The question took Flemeth by surprise but she masked her expression masterfully.

 _Amnesia?_ Flemeth wondered. Perhaps the girl had hit her head harder than she originally thought?

“Dry yourself and get dressed first, sweet child,” she said warmly handing her a dry rag. “I'll warm up some stew for you and we will figure out this mystery together.”

The girl took her time getting dressed. She chose a simple white nightgown made of soft material. She peeled off her wet gown and slippers and sat on one of the beds and dried herself off. Something was puzzling her and she couldn't quite grasp it. It wasn't just that she didn't recognize her surroundings, or that the woman seemed both familiar yet unknown to her, no it was something else. Something about herself.

Once dried the girl pulled the nightgown over her head and slipped into it. She felt her strength slowly returning to her and the scent of warm stew made her stomach rumble. The gown fitted her as if made for her. She had also chosen a pair of matching white slippers that fit her feet perfectly as she slipped into them.

She had noticed she was wearing a beautiful amulet made of some form of white bone around her neck that held a black gem in it. She picked it up in her hand to inspect it. The gem was warm to the touch as if pulsating with life, and the bone seemed to have been hand-carved masterfully as it intertwined upon itself and was strung from a silver chain. It had rested right upon her heart. She wondered where she had acquired it? Had the woman in the other room given it to her? It seemed as if the answer was trying to push to the forefront of her mind but was just out of reach as with everything else.

She went to remove it and set it upon the side table so as not to break it in her sleep but hesitated. Her instincts told her to keep it on so she rested it back onto her chest.

Did she live here? She wondered as she looked around getting up. There were beautiful dresses in the armoire as well yet nothing seemed familiar to her at all. All those clothes seemed to be designed to fit her.

And who was this mystery woman? Was this woman her Mother? She called her “child” and fussed over her like a Mother would so it seemed plausible to her, but she could not recall anything. There were two beds she noticed. She must live here, she deduced. “Mother,” she said softly out loud as if testing its feel. The word seemed to slip out of her mouth all too easily for the older woman to be anyone else she told herself.

She took a moment to collect herself before returning to the main living quarters. The old woman with the gray hair was now sitting in the chair opposite of where the girl had sat earlier. The woman was still a beauty though her youth had long passed her, and she carried herself with an air of confidence and spoke with a slight smirk. She wore a simple brown dress, nothing at all like the elaborate gowns that were hanging in the armoire. She noticed a staff leaning in the corner of the room too. Like the woman's dress it was simple, made of brown wood and without adornments of any kind.

She gestured for the girl to sit in the empty seat. “Eat,” she said. A small bowl of delicious smelling stew sat on the table in front of the girl's chair. The stew was delectable and her stomach felt as if she hadn't eaten in ages as she gulped it down.

“Do you not recall who I am, child?” the old woman asked her as she finished the stew. The girl simply shook her head indicating that, no, she did not. “Tell me, who do you think I might be? Try to remember,” the woman encouraged her.

The girl struggled to think. Though her face looked familiar she couldn't place a name or connect any memory to the woman who had fretted over her since she had awoken in the storm. “Mother” was all that came to her though it seemed odd for reasons she did not know.

“I think you are ... Mother,” she stated tentatively.

 _Mother?_ Flemeth thought slightly entertained by the notion. _How curious of a notion!_ It would appear that Flemeth's hunch that the girl suffered from amnesia was exactly that. Now how bad it was or how long it would last she was uncertain of. It was slightly troublesome so she masked her worry from the girl's searching eyes.

“Mother, you say... Tell me, what do you remember? Anything at all?” she asked the confused girl.

“I...” she stammered. “No, nothing,” She struggled to recall something, anything. “I don't remember anything before waking up in the storm and seeing you.” _Aha!_ Flemeth thought. She had to of hit her head fairly hard then. Flemeth stood and went to her herb cabinet. She sat back down and began grinding herbs in a mortar with a pestle.

“And what of you? Can you recall your own name?” Flemeth needed to know just how deep her amnesia ran. She was grinding up some elfroot though it was not really needed. She had to care for the girl's wound on her head without giving away the true nature of things.

The girl struggled to think, it was on the edge of her mind but would dart away before she could grasp it. That was what had bothered her when she was changing, she had been trying to recall her own name!

“No,” she shook her head, “I don't know my name.” She looked around the inside of the hut then back at Flemeth. “I don't know yours either, and I don't know where I am.”

She was puzzled, confused, and a little more than frightened. Suddenly her whole life was a closed book to her.

 _Mother?_ Flemeth pondered the concept. Mother would suit them both just fine until they unlocked this mystery. Besides, Mother was something she had been for so long to so many daughters, and had she not cared for the girl herself while she was under her spell? The spell that Solas claimed to have ensured only he could reverse? The more she thought about this, the more of an enigma the whole ordeal was turning out to be.

Whether or not the girl's amnesia was due to what Mythal had done to her or from hitting her head Flemeth would have to determine next. She needed to know the truth of the matter. If what Mythal had said was true... No, she tried not to think about it. Not now of all times. She focused her attention back to the young woman.

“Why do you think you call me Mother, child?” she asked her while getting up to make a poultice from the elfroot as well as bringing her another helping of stew. The girl appeared ravenous and that made the situation more perplexing than before. _Eternal stasis,_ Solas had said. _She will want for nothing._ Those were his exact words. Yet this seemed as if something had gone amok. If indeed the spell had been cast correctly then why was she so hungry? The spell, her awakening, her amnesia, Mythal's decision to do what she had done? No, something was amiss.

“Because 'child' is what you called me when I came to, and 'child' is what you refer to me as still. Who am I then if not your child?” The girl's answer brought Flemeth's attention back to the forefront of the conversation.

“Now that is a very good question, you see. Who are you indeed?” Flemeth grinned. “I was once many things to many people, but now am simply an old woman who cares for this Garden we are in. I have had many names over my long years.” She smeared the poultice on the already shrinking lump on the girl's head. “It's for your head,” she explained. It had a slight tingling sensation to it as it seeped into the girl's skin.

Flemeth sat down. “I have been called Asha'bellanar by the Elvhen who come here,” she went on, “And I have been known as Flemeth to even more still. I have been Mother to many young girls for I have had many daughters. If 'Mother' suits you then you may continue to call me by that. It would please me for you to do so,” she smiled.

 _Flemeth,_ the girl thought when she heard it. The name seemed familiar to her but like everything else she couldn't invoke any memories to associate with it. Like everything else it slipped away from her before she could gain purchase on it. She decided that she would call the woman Mother. It gave her a sense of safety and comfort to do so.

“It seems you've hit your head harder than I originally thought,” Mother remarked. “Let's play a game shall we? I'll say something and you tell me if it means anything to you. What comes to mind when I say 'The Herald of Andraste'?”

The world around the girl dimmed and blackened. Her ears rang and her head was struck with a searing pain that blocked out the last part of the question. She cried out and seized her head as tears streamed down her face from the sheer agony that made her feel as if her very mind would split open. She came up from the pain gasping for air.

Flemeth rushed to her side. This was most alarming. No ordinary amnesia would elicit such a physical reaction. And though she hated having to do it to her again she had to be certain that her hunch was correct. She would have to put her through even more questions.

“Are you alright, child?” she asked her with as much warmth and comfort as she could.

“Yes, I just... I don't know why but that was unbearable.” She panted ever so slightly, the pain subsiding as quickly as it had struck her. Mother looked concerned despite how calmly she spoke.

“I'm afraid I must ask you a few more questions. I need to be positive of the extent of your condition. Can you manage the pain?” Mother asked her.

 _I have to be certain_ , she thought, _Solas must know_.

“I... yes. I believe so,” the girl replied anxiously.

“We shall proceed then. Tell me when you can no longer handle it. I won't make you suffer anymore than is necessary,” she assured her.

“What do you recall about the Inquisition?” she asked bracing herself for another attack from the girl. Just as she suspected the moment Flemeth said the word “Inquisition” the girl clutched her head and doubled over in pain crying out as before.

Mother took one of her hands into hers and looked at her. Her alarm was hard to disguise now. “Now, one final question,” she said. “I do apologize my child, but this one is important. Does it hurt when I say the name 'Solas'?”

The girl braced herself for the oncoming pain but none came this time, just a sensation of confusion.

“No,” she said flatly. “It doesn't hurt.” She thought for a moment then asked, “Who is he?” Just as quickly the girl posed a question to herself; Why did she say “he” so readily? _Solas_... she said to herself trying to conjure up a face to put to the name. Did she know this person? She must, she told herself. Yet no firm answers came to her, just a slight feeling of familiarity at the sound of the name and that the knowledge that it was a man's name. Nothing more.

"Mother, who is he?" she asked again hoping for an answer, any answer.

“I'm afraid I can't answer your question, my child. To do so would only cause you more pain,” the older woman explained. “But it is good that his name did not induce the same response as my other inquiries had.”

 _He_ , Flemeth had heard her say. So something about the name WAS familiar and her mind had at least latched onto some semblance of a memory associated with her Husband. This confirmed what she had begun to suspect early on. That this was no natural amnesia from the fall. No, this was something altogether different. She recalled that even the name she had once known her by, Flemeth, had not brought the girl any pain. Just the same look of confusion across her face as when she mentioned Solas.

“Why did it hurt so much with the other questions? Does amnesia do that to you?” the girl asked.

“No, not normal amnesia, my dear. It would seem that yours is magical in nature,” she sighed. There had been one last thing of great importance that Mythal had told her regarding the girl. Now it was imperative that the she unlock the mysteries of her own mind. She needed to recall all that she had been, all that she had done, so that the prophecy Mythal had disclosed to her before leaving did not come to pass. Without knowing her own self she would not be able to perform the terrible duty that awaited her.

Flemeth could only pray that the mysterious power of the amulet that bound her and Solas together had indeed alerted him that his Bride had awoken. Time was running out and he needed to be here and _soon_. They were coming, and under no circumstances could Flemeth allow the girl's existence to be discovered.

That and _so much more_.

 _"He needs to know about the prophecy. That terrible future must not come to pass,"_ she thought to herself.

She needed to tell Solas everything and he needed to get the girl far away from here before they came, for _they_ were on their way. Those that who remained that were pitted in a war against Solas had finally sensed the location of the Garden, and it was all because they had caught the scent of Mythal.

They could not be allowed to discover Rowan.

“My child, you must find a way to unlock your memories. There is a way, but for now get some rest. You'll need it,” she told her. “You must be prepared for a journey to the ruins of Tarasyl'an Te'las, ' _the place where the sky is kept'_ as it is also known.”

“Why?” the girl asked, “What is that place and what will I discover there?”

“There is where you will be able to recover your entire self. It is the only way.”


	8. Racing Against Time

Solas spent his time in the Vir Dirthara searching for an answer, or even the slightest hint of a clue, on how to reverse the sickness in Rowan. Books upon countless books, various tomes, even the smallest scroll he poured over time and again.

 _There MUST be a way_ , he thought relentlessly searching.

At times he believed he was getting close to achieving his goal. He was using various notes about old concoctions and spells attempting to combine them into the ultimate cure for his beloved Rowan. He needed her like a dying man in the desert needed water in which to survive. Yet, despite his best efforts, he had not uncovered the secret combination in which to undo the sickness that the Anchor had bestowed upon her. The sickness that was killing her.

The Old Ones, as he now referred to Them, had not been entirely defeated yet but oh how he missed her. A thousand years passed and he was forbidden to even gaze upon her. He knew not how he could protect her from the Old Ones, but he longed for her and her company. At least he had his amulet. The only thing that made him feel closer to his imprisoned Wife. Often he found himself rubbing the gem delicately with his thumb just to feel her life-force. Still strong, still alive.

To date he had vanquished the Old Ones down to a remaining three; There was Elgar'nan, Andruil, and Geldauran. Each of whom he had tricked into confinement oh so long ago. Once the Veil was torn down both the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones had been freed. Yet those three were all that remained now. Some of the Evanuris he had counted among his friends at one point until they had gone too far; they had slain Mythal. A crime for which he could not forgive. So he had cast away the would-be Gods, tricked them into their long, long sleep. Once they had served the greater good for the Elves, but the Forgotten Ones had been figures of fear and dread to his people, thus he had sealed them away as well during what had been known as his Great Betrayal.

Once awoken they had roamed the world once more and as the world burned in chaos in destruction he hunted them one by one. In turn they hunted him. Both were ever on the move though usually it was easy to find them when they would terrorize local Elvhen establishments. He was certain this was done in order to flush him out of hiding.

Eventually, despite their vast differences in nature, the remaining Evanuris and Forgotten Ones banded together in a semi-peaceful truce to exact their vengeance upon Solas himself. There had been too many times to count how they nearly succeeded in taking him down, during which times he would retreat to the now empty Sanctuary to lick his wounds and regain his strength. He could not allow a single one to survive if he wished to protect the Elvhen people.

When the fighting was over he would help rebuild the communities then make the Elvhen forget that he had ever been there. He wanted no God-hood for himself. He had never wanted that life. Besides he had other plans, plans with _her_. A life. A _mortal_ life. He was tired of being Fen'Harel the Dread Wolf. He longed for nothing more than to be a Husband to his Wife and find a quiet spot in which to settle down. Yet another conflict had ensued so once again he had retreated to the Sanctuary now that it was over. The same three still remained a threat but he had bought himself some time, he had dealt significant blows to them in the last heated battle.

During these times he would turn his attention back to his studies of old and forgotten Magic as well as books yet created as could be found from within the Vir Dirthara. Within the confines of the safety of the Sanctuary he also had moved all the Eluvian's within it to prevent the Others from employing or destroying them. Once his task was complete he would repair the Crossroads and place the Eluvian's back where they belonged and open the pathways to the Elvhen people once more. He would instruct them in the Ancient Ways to the best of his abilities. Restoring what once was.

Today had been such a day where he was in no mood for a hunt or chase so he was in the Sanctuary. He was distressed and he could not place its origins. He had suffered from a troublesome dream regarding Rowan and when he awoke the dream drifted away before he could recall the details of it. It left him pacing back and forth, distracted, his brow furled deep with concern. He attempted to immerse himself into his studies but the dream nagged and gnawed at his mind breaking his concentration time and again. He found that his mind kept wandering back to it like a puzzle that needed solving. If only he could recall the nature of his dream he might be able to put his troubled mind at ease.

“Fenedhis,” he spat out as he sat down in frustration. He had to shake this nagging feeling so he could return his attention back to his studies, yet he found that could not maintain his focus. He simply sat there searching the recesses of his mind for anything he could call forth.

He took his amulet in his hand and idly began to rub the binding gem as he always did when he thought of Rowan or missed her so. Now was such a time. It helped to ease his tortured psyche. He allowed his mind to wander back to some of his fondest memories of her; the sheer determination on her face in the midst of battle, how she had rose from the ashes to come to command one of the mightiest Armies in all of Thedas. The way she laughed and his favorite, aside from their first kiss, the very first time she smiled at him in Haven.

Ah yes, Haven. Where their first conversation took place. He revisited that memory often as he was doing now. He remembered how she had first approached him and he began the conversation with a somewhat caustic remark even though it had not been his intention.

“ _The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero sent to save us all,_ ” he had said to her. “ _Am I riding in on a shining steed?_ ” she retorted with a smile. Her smile had been exquisite with that ever so slight smirk she had. That was the first time he found himself entranced by her, seeing her awake, watching the way she moved, her stance, her laughter, even the smallest of gestures. She carried herself with natural elegance even though at that time she was still technically the Inquisition's prisoner. These were just a few images of her that had been burned deep into his mind from that moment on. He studied her every move, her every word as if they came from a sacred text. Absentmindedly he continued to rub the binding gem that had been magically sealed between the teeth of his Wolf bone amulet.

That's when he felt it and it snapped him back to reality like a sharp blow. The gem was pulsating like the beating of a heart; strong and unmistakable. The gentle warmth it once emanated was now fierce and potent. Emotions emanated from it enveloping him; confusion, anxiety, and significant amount of power she hadn't possessed.

“This can not be!” he exclaimed aloud. Pages from his desk scattered everywhere as he sprung to his feet in alarm.

_She has awoken!_

No, it cannot be. How was that even possible? Who or what could have broken the spell? He had made certain that he and only he could undo it. Something must have happened to awaken her, and surely she will perish without the cure. He was frantic even though her life-force seemed to be emanating from the binding gem much more potently than it should have been. He had to get to the Garden! He needed to get there quickly, there was no time to waste. Damn Flemeth and Mythal for insisting the he removed the Eluvian! It would take him several days to reach the Garden even with the fastest mount and he would have to avoid drawing the attention of The Others at the same time.

“ _I would have suggested a Griffon, but sadly they are extinct,_ ” the memory came to mind. Yes, sadly extinct _once_ but no longer. Glancing at a particular tome on a shelf he wondered, _Yes,_ he thought, _he would summon a Griffon._ An animal that he had successfully recreated magically. It would still take him two or three days by flight but he had to try. He couldn't reactivate an Eluvian, it was a high risk he was not willing to take regardless of how tempting it was. It could lead the Others straight to the Garden. Yet if the spell did not work he would suffer that chance. On a Griffon he could cloak himself. Why had he not chosen a closer location to settle in?

“Fenedhis!” he cursed again as he went about frantically locating the spell he needed.

* * *

Night had settled in when Mother had insisted that she go and get some rest, yet sleep did not come easily to her despite how comfortable her modest bed was. Mother had left her alone in the sleeping area of the hut while she went and busied herself with cleaning up the rest of the hut. She had even taken the dress and slippers she had been wearing when she came to for cleaning and mending.

She tried to sleep yet kept finding herself searching the deepest recesses of her mind for some clue as to her life or any memory she could cling to yet they remained elusive. It was as if her life began outside in the storm with Mother standing over her with an outstretched hand.

Still there was that one name that bounced around in her head over and again; _Solas_.

She couldn't get the name out of her head, she clung to it and she wasn't certain why. Either he was someone important to her or it was just a simple matter of the fact that hearing his name did not cause the same excruciating pain as Mother's other questions had. Then again when Mother referred to herself as “Flemeth” she felt the same twinge of familiarity as when she heard the name “Solas”. Even still something about the name felt important to her.

Who was he, and more importantly, who was he to her?

“Magical amnesia,” she said to herself. That was what Mother had told her; She had Magical amnesia. Had she been cursed? Did someone do this to her? Did _Mother_ do this to her? Somehow she doubted the old woman was the cause of this, so if not her then who or what was behind it, and if it _had_ been a Mage then why? These were just a few of the many questions she mauled over in her head.

Though she remembered nothing at all about herself, not even her own name, it appeared as if she knew quite a bit about Magic. For example upon closer inspection she could feel the magical vibrations emanating from her necklace when she held it. She felt it more strongly when it lay upon her chest. She turned it over in her hand gently rubbing the black gem that was centered in the necklace itself. It pulsated like a heartbeat in tandem with her own. She was unsure what exactly the necklace could do, but something about it brought her great comfort when she held it in her hand though she knew not why.

Then there was the matter of the staff she had seen, Mother's staff she assumed. Although it appeared to be nothing more than a walking stick to the naked eye, somehow the girl knew it was magical in nature. She had been able to pick up a small aura emanating from it whenever it was in her peripheral vision. It had to be a Mage's staff. Or in the very least enchanted. How she knew she couldn't be certain, but knew she did. She had also noticed when the storm abated that it had a slightly different electrical feel to it than she thought a natural storm should. _Mother's doing?_

So Mother was possibly a Mage. In the very least she possessed magical items. She seemed very well versed in the way of herbal medicine, that much was obvious. The bump on her forehead was already gone and there was no longer any pain. She didn't believe that any poultice could work so effectively so quickly. Perhaps Mother had magically healed her wound? If that were possible could Mother could find a way to undo this Curse? No, she didn't believe she could otherwise she was certain she would have done so already.

The other thing she suspected about Mother was that she was not really her Mother. Perhaps she had raised her at some point in her life, but of that she had no way of knowing. She had known the old woman, of that she knew, but of the true nature of their past relationship she could only surmise.

None of this made any sense to her, then again she didn't even know herself so she really had very little to go by. With a sigh she shifted in the small bed changing positions and faced the far wall and gazed out the window. The rain had stopped for the time being but she was still finding it difficult to sleep despite her exhaustion.

Mother had told her she would have to travel to the ruins of Tarasyl'an Te'las in order to undo this amnesia, to unlock her memories. Tarasyl'an Te'las, ' _the place where the sky is kept_ ', she had said. Something about its named felt oddly familiar as well, as if she had heard it before, but as with everything else it remained just beyond her grasp taunting her.

“What was so special about a place that it could unlock her memories?” she wondered.

Over and over her mind waged its own private war with these thoughts until she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Flemeth waited until she was certain that the girl had fallen asleep before going outside. She had to get rid of all remnants of the debris of the fallen archway that had been struck by lightning. It was her doing, of course, the lightning bolt. Just as the storm had been her doing. All evidence of the name “Rowhanna” had to be removed she had believed at that point. She had no way of knowing that the girl would awaken without her memories.

She also had to do something about all the remaining alabaster that had once coated the girl's body. The Elvhen would inquire the “groundskeeper” about what had happened and she would blame the storm, naturally. She was certain that in no time a new statue would be erected, but by that time the girl and Solas should be long gone.

Then there was the matter of privacy she had to tend to. She was going to have to find a way to keep the Garden closed off from the Elvhen as well as find some way of contacting Solas. If only she had thought of a sending crystal when all of this began she would have been able to contact him immediately, but she hadn't thought of that in her hastiness had she? Oh no, not at all. They were all so certain in Solas' abilities that no one thought for one second to formulate a contingency plan.

And now they needed one the most.

There was imminent danger approaching and he needed to not only know what had happened, but that he had to get her to safety and back to the ruins of Skyhold. Skyhold is where Flemeth believed the girl would have a better chance of unlocking her memories. The one place she had spent the better parts of her life. The place where people she had placed her love and trust into and they into her. Where she had become the Inquisitor and saved all of Thedas. The girl had to become fully herself again and become that fierce leader she once was to help prevent the terrible prophecy from coming to fruition. Though it was long abandoned the ruins still remained.

“ _That future can not come to pass._ ” A terrible future that would hail the end of all life Mythal had told her. And somehow Solas and Rowan were they key, but only if the girl could regain all of who she had been in time. _And that was IF it could be done_ , she thought. There was no way she could do so in her current state, Flemeth believed.

Without Mythal she could already feel her powers waning and feel old age settling into her bones in places she had never felt before. Utilizing her Magic had taken a bit of a toll on her. She still had enough Magic within her to fend for herself if need be, but as it stood controlling the storm for such a lengthy period of time and doing what needed to be done about the Garden had made her weary.

She had used her Magic to clean up all the fallen debris. She transformed the chunks of fallen stone blocks into simpler rocks and boulders that she moved artfully about the Garden. Next she took the remnants of the alabaster and crafted it an elegant looking vase and sat it beside the bench. Once she was satisfied with everything she erected a barrier around the Garden that would misdirect anyone approaching it leading them away from the Garden instead of into it. The barrier took more out of her than anything else thus far, but the privacy was important. She and the girl would need to be left alone until Solas could arrive.

Once satisfied with her work she returned to her hut. She was beginning to feel tired and weak, something Flemeth was not accustomed to. She wracked her brain for a way to contact Solas. Coming up empty-handed all she could do was watch over the girl and hope that their ritual binding was enough to warn him that the girl had awoken from her long slumber. _Slumber_ , she thought to herself, not eternal _stasis_. It dawned on her that Solas had cast the incorrect spell! He had to have, there was no other explanation, and in time the spell had simply worn off.

So not even eternal, but long-lasting instead. Though the girl had not seemed to have aged since the time they first met at Mythal's altar, she had been merely sleeping the past millennium. Was it possible that it had been a combination of the two spells and in his grief he made a heinous error? Flemeth concluded that it must have been the case. Even one incorrect word would have change the fundamentals of any spell.

It made her wonder what the girl had endured all these years? Had she been aware of anything? Had she been aware of her surroundings or of the Elvhen that had come to know her as their Goddess and worshiped her as one? And what of that in itself? What effect would such devotion and worship have on her if at all? Such devotion was similar to how the Evanuris had come to be known as Gods slowly. As Solas had once explained how the Evanuris had come to be known as Gods was very similar to the girl. Not quite, but enough for concern.

“ _Generals had become respected Elders, then Kings, and finally as Gods._ ”

Would not the same happen to the girl with such veneration after so long? She wondered at that. One more reason to be careful with the girl. There was no telling what transformation she might have undergone during the last millennium while she had slept.

Flemeth sat down by the fire in her overstuffed chair. She would have to put such questions to aside for now. She was starting to feel her age and would need to pace herself. She also needed rest, for tomorrow would be a busy day for them both. The girl's Magic had to be tested, possibly retrained and honed, and she would need to be prepared for the journey to come to Skyhold.

 _So many questions and not enough answers_... she thought as she drifted off where she sat the embers slowly dying down.


	9. The Death of a Legend

The next morning the girl woke to find that one of the many dresses from the armoire had been laid out on the opposing bed for her. It looked like it hadn't been slept in the previous night. She inspected the dress. It was a white dress made of soft velvet with long sleeves and gray fur trim. Matching slippers sat beside the dress alongside a white, velvet cloak with matching fur trim. Warm wear for colder climates it seemed. She must have slept deeper than she thought because she didn't hear Mother come in and lay out the clothing. After getting dressed she noted that everything fit her perfectly. This furthered her belief that she had to have lived here, at least for some length of time.

She smelled food coming from the other room so she busied herself with straightening up starting with making her bed. She then folded up the nightgown placing it back in the armoire then went to brush her hair. She found the brush Mother had used on her the night before but when she went to look for a mirror there wasn't one to be found so she brushed her long, wavy locks blindly. White, she thought glancing down at them. Her hair was white like snow and long. It draped down to her chest-line in soft waves. It was whiter than even her dress and cloak if that was even possible.

She entered the other room and saw a single bowl of porridge sitting upon the table. Mother was busying herself with pulling various items out of several cabinets and had what appeared to be a satchel laid out on opposite end of the table. Items were scattered everywhere.

“Sit,” Mother told her when she walked in. “Sit, sit, sit. You must eat,” she encouraged her. “How does your head feel today?”

“Fine, it doesn't hurt at all.” As a matter of fact she recalled how it had stopped aching last night when she was attempting to sleep. She watched Mother bustling about the hut gathering assorted items and placing them on the table and counters while she ate. "Good, very good," Mother replied still rummaging through the hut pulling things out.

“What's all this?” she asked as she sat down and began eating.

“Why this is your travel pack, my dear. You will be leaving soon enough and need to have supplies,” she stated simply. Scattered upon the table were what appeared to be small container bottles filled with red and blue fluids that glowed ever so slightly, food rations, a flask, some pouches of herbs and other miscellaneous items. She also saw that the dress she had been wearing in the rain the night before had indeed been cleaned and mended and was now draped over the overstuffed chair. The dress looked far too elegant for traveling, but it was beautiful. Layers upon layers of sheer white with ribbon laces and silver petals.

Many other various dresses were strewn about just as beautiful. They each looked handcrafted with loving care and catered to fit her. These dresses were scattered about the hut everywhere. Poor Mother's hut was a mess of things and she wondered just how much stuff she was expected to carry or would all these thing be carried in a cart? It made her wonder just how much clothing Mother thought she was going to need, and did she truly expect her to travel with all these dresses? Surely all this stuff would not fit into a single satchel?

Then she noticed there were various staffs leaning up against the far wall, each emanating that same Magical vibration and aura as Mother's had, but the auras differed slightly from one to the other.

“What are all those staffs for, Mother?” she asked in confusion.

“Ah well those are for your training today,” she smiled. “Solas is a trusted friend and will be coming for you to take you to Tarasyl'an Te'las. He knows the way well and can protect you much better than I. While we wait we will be spending today in preparation by testing and honing your skills, hence you must choose a staff for yourself.”

“Are you not coming with us?” the girl asked slightly alarmed. She made it sound as if she was staying behind. Mother she knew, Mother was _all_ she knew. Why wouldn't Mother be coming along?

“Ah no, my child. I am too old to make the journey and my place is here. My adventuring days are long behind me,” she said with a sigh. “Besides, Solas is far better equipped than I to take you where you need to go. And if I left, well who would look after the Garden?” she laughed in a joking manner.

“Come,” Mother said. “You are dressed, you have eaten, and now you must choose a staff.”

“I still don't understand why I would need a staff,” the girl replied as Mother guided her to the wall where they were all lined up. And how would she know the right one to choose?

“Because you, my dear, are a Mage. You have the gift, the touch, and we need to test how much you have retained with your amnesia and gauge just how powerful your abilities are. We will see what comes naturally and what needs to be worked on.”

There were at least eight of them, all of different sizes and designs. Some had crystals atop them, some were carved out of wood, then there were some made of elongated spires of unknown make with elaborate designs. They ranged from extremely elegant to simple as Mother's was simple. She focused her attention back to what Mother had said; That she was a Mage.

“Wait. I'm a... _Mage?_ ” This was shocking news to her, yet that would explain how she was able to detect Magical items about the hut. That's when she noticed as she looked around that even the hut itself seemed to have Magic seeping into and out of its very walls. She had accurately guessed the night beforehand that Mother was a Mage as well.

“Why yes, yes you are! Come now, child,” she gestured at the collection. “A Mage should always choose their own staff. It will become a part of you, an extension of your abilities. Now, choose your weapon of choice.”

Flemeth watched the girl carefully as she approached the collection of staffs. After but a moment, and as if by instinct alone, the girl reached out and grabbed the Veil Quartz staff that had the three intertwined serpent heads on the top.  _Her original staff_ , Flemeth noted. It was the one she wielded while in the Inquisition, the one that Solas had left here with Flemeth for safe-keeping.

“Very good choice, child. Ah yes, very good choice indeed.” Flemeth had wondered if she would have chosen her original one or not, and now she had her answer. Some things would come to the girl naturally even if she herself would not know it or understand why. Flemeth took that as a good sign. Mother seemed very pleased by her decision. The staff was lightweight though it appeared heavy, and it hummed ever so slightly sending a current of sensation up her right arm.

“Now, there's no to time to waste. We have the Garden to ourselves today and we need to test what knowledge comes naturally to you, and just how strong you truly are.” It was time to see how much of her previous training the girl could conjure up from sheer instincts alone.

Flemeth knew this was a gamble, having her use any strong Magic in the Garden. It would increase their chances of being located, but The Others were coming anyhow, that much she knew. Having spent a thousand years in the Garden Flemeth did not know how many or who remained, but she had to chance it. Although it was risky, but she had to know. _Ah yes_ , she thought, _she had to know. Just how powerful had the girl become since her transformation?_

It was a beautiful day outside and it was the first time the girl was able to take in the scenery about her. Flowers grew everywhere, a glistening pond reflecting the sun's light off of it, and a stone platform with a matching stone bench. Beside the bench sat an elegant, white vase. The vase unnerved her for some reason so she shifted her gaze elsewhere. She spotted a lone tree with red berries that stood tall and proud on the opposite side of the pond. The Garden was a marvel to behold and the destruction that had been caused by the previous nights storm was gone entirely. _Mother's doing_ , she thought. The whole place felt very familiar to her.

“What is this place?” she asked. This was no ordinary Garden. It was overflowing with Magic. She could feel it in the very air, even in the flowers that surrounded her down to each blade of grass. Glancing back even the hut emanated powerful magic and there seemed to be a shimmering veil of a dome that blanketed the entire enclosure of the Garden.

“This place is known as the Garden of Love by the people,” Mother explained. “They come from all over to petition the Garden's Magic to bring true love into their lives. Many unions have taken place beneath that tree over there,” she pointed at the solitary tree. “And others still come to sit on the bench together offering thanks for bringing them together or to profess their love for one another.”

It was breathtaking, this Garden, yet a feeling deep within told her that in this place she had known great love and great sorrow. Perhaps her original assumption that she had lived here, at least for some time, was correct? Rowan's eyes drifted back to the solitary tree. Again, there was that tingling in her head as if a memory was brewing just behind a veil within her mind.

“That tree," she pointed at it, "It looks familiar but I can't quite recall its name. What is it?” she asked Mother.

At first Mother hesitated. Would this bring about a painful amnesia episode or was it that some names would elicit none whatsoever from the girl? Tentatively she answered, “It's a Rowan tree.” She let out an internal sigh of relief when nothing happened. Just a look on the girl's face as if she were struggling to recall something.

“Now enough of this,” she barked at the girl suddenly taking several strides back. “Time to focus. Let us test your mettle, shall we?” With a crackling of her staff she sent a bolt of energy towards the girl almost catching her off guard. "Defend yourself!” Mother yelled.

On they went at each other for well over a good hour. The girl did not seem to tire, quite the opposite; Her powers appeared to increase with each defensive and offensive strike. She wielded the staff artfully and with finesse. Flemeth was extremely impressed with the girls abilities. She was able to dodge and counter her every spell. She showed a power that was immeasurable, still drawing from the raw substance of the Fade, manipulating it to her will. She mastered her skills of ice, fire, and lightning with maddening proficiency as well. She even seemed to invent new spells on the fly. At one point vines shot up out of the ground and tangled around Flemeth's legs and snatching her staff from her hands. The earth shook nearly toppling Flemeth over. She knew enough at that point. She had not only retained her original powers but had developed new ones to master.

 _The Garden's doing?_ Flemeth wondered.

Yes, she was quite powerful and impressive. Even more-so than she had been in her previous life when first they met. Though, even then, she was a Mage of no small talent. She had been capable of mastering the Guardian at the Altar of Mythal; a great Dragon that protected the place. Shortly afterwards she had gone on to defeat Corypheus as well as his Blight tied Dragon, then even faced a horde of Qunari successfully.

That was a time when she was bound to Mythal and Flemeth after drinking from the Well of Sorrows at the Temple of Mythal. They had watched but never interfered. After defeating Corypheus, Mythal had released her from her bonds not wishing to enslave the young woman. Yet now her abilities went beyond measuring.

After awhile Flemeth had to stop, it was weakening her to use her own Magic against the girl in single combat. Even if Mythal had still been with Flemeth the girl would have proven to be a worthy adversary.

Flemeth was resting on a rock when suddenly the sky began to darken and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in alarm. The air felt charged with powerful Magic. She immediately knew what was happening. There was no mistaking it. _They were coming!_

She cursed herself. It had been foolhardy to engage the girl's powers, but she did not for once believe they were this close. Three days in the very least but now they were but an hour away if not less. The barrier she had erected the night before had weakened as she had been focusing her abilities towards the girl. In fact the barrier was rapidly deteriorating as Flemeth's powers waned. She knew she could not strengthen it again. She was simply too weak and there was not enough time. Besides, it was pointless. They had been located and her simple barrier would not keep them out, nor would Solas' Magical wards.

The girl's powers had been akin to a beacon in the darkness.

She was drained but she had to get the girl out of the Garden before They arrived. They must still believe that Mythal was here within her since it had only been just yesterday that the girl had woken up. Flemeth would still carry the scent of Mythal hopefully enough to fool them into believing that Mythal had fled the human woman in fear.

As for the girl? She did not carry the scent of Mythal since Mythal had separated her essence from the god-hood before bestowing it upon her. But she carried her own mark now and she could not allow them to catch it. She had to save the girl and prevent them from picking up on her and in order to do so she would have no choice but to send her away.

“Get back inside!” Flemeth yelled to the girl. “Go NOW!” Her face and eyes filled with panic and her voice filled with fear. The two of them ran back inside. Flemeth bolted the door then began to rush about hurriedly placing items on the satchel seemingly at random. She shoved some clothing onto it haphazardly last, then rolled it up and tied it off.

The girl was confused and had no time to think. _Something_ was coming, and whatever it was it had Mother frightened. She could feel her amulet burning hot against her chest warning her of it, felt the sensation of imminent danger radiating from it. She was frozen in place and could only look on as Mother rushed about. Mother grabbed the now bundled satchel and cloak, unbolted the door, took the girl's hand, and started running with her towards the entryway the led into the Garden. Suddenly she stopped just shy of the entrance and looked up at the darkening sky behind them.

“Take these and run!” she whispered in a panicked state shoving the white cloak and satchel into her arms. The girl was still holding the staff she had used during their training session. Mother looked back at the darkening sky, the clouds a blood red now. She turned back to her continuing, “You must go _now!_ They must not find you!” she said shoving the girl towards the path.

“No, Mother, let me stay,” she pleaded with her. “Let me help you!” She couldn't just leave her here, she thought. She could help her, she knew she could.

“No, nothing must happen to you and They must not find out about you! You are too important!” Mother said in a hushed tone.

“ _They?_   Who are _They?_   Mother you're frightening me,” the girl cried. And just how was she was too important that Mother would send her off on her own in such a manner? Too important how or for what?

Flemeth ignored her. “Head for the mountains, child. Trust no one but Solas. He will find you, I'll make sure of it,” she said. “Now listen closely; You will need to choose a name for yourself, any name, and practice using it. Until Solas finds you avoid towns and settlements as much as you possibly can except when absolutely necessary. Be careful and trust no one but Solas. Now run!”

“But Mother,” she cried out as Flemeth began to leave her at the pathway. “How will I know who he is?”

“Trust your Amulet! Now GO!” she said frantically before running back to her hut.

The girl ran for the entrance path that lead out in the direction of the mountains just as she was instructed to do. She was frightened; frightened for Mother and frightened for herself. She must choose a name Mother had told her. She thought of the lone tree. The Rowan tree.

“ _Rowan_ ," she said to herself. " _It is the only tree there, and I am now all alone by myself. I will call myself 'Rowan'._ ” It was a good enough name, she thought.

Then she began to run as fast as she could. She heard a great thunderclap behind her but did not dare to stop and look back. In fact she ran even faster heading towards the mountains thinking, “ _My name is Rowan_ ” over and again like a mantra to not just reaffirm it in her mind, but to distract her from her overwhelming fear. She didn't know how to fend for herself or how she was to find this Solas person but one thing she knew; Mother was going to die...

Whoever the woman really had been to her before her amnesia she had been most gracious and kind to her. No matter the truth, she would always be “Mother” to her.

* * *

Solas had been soaring through the skies on the back of the Griffon well into the night as well as the entire morning stopping only long enough to allow the beast to rest and eat when it needed to. He urged the Griffon on as fast as it could carry him heading straight for the Garden. He was making good time but feared he wouldn't arrive soon enough. 

His gem stone was filling him with feelings of dread and fear, panic and desperation. Once again it was hard to distinguish his own from hers. Yet somehow, the most perplexing riddle of all, she was awake and she was alive! But his Amulet warned him that something was taking place in the Garden that was urgent so he pushed the beast harder than before.

When he arrived his heart sank and filled with horror. He was too late. The Garden was in shambles, nearly destroyed. Evidence of a great battle was obvious everywhere he looked. The stone archway and platform was utterly destroyed and the hut that Flemeth had constructed bore scorch marks from flames that had since died down. The Others had been here, he could still catch their scent in the air, but wherever they were now they were long gone.

He landed the Griffon and dismounted quickly. He spied a lone figure trapped beneath fallen rubble. He easily made out that it was Flemeth by the color of her hair. Wherever Rowan was he did not know. He rushed to Flemeth and knelt down by her side. She was badly wounded and in dire need of help.

She was in critical condition. Her body was bloodied and broken and she was pinned beneath a large pile of stone debris unable to free herself. It appeared as if she was were on the verge of dying. She had aged considerably since last they saw each other, and her Elvhen disguise had faded away as her Magic dissipated. They had been responsible for all of this. If Rowan were here he did not see her.

He could not sense Mythal within the woman's human form. She was simply gone. “ _How could this be?_ ” he asked himself. So They had come and ended Mythal forever, snatching her life force out of Flemeth violently, leaving the frail woman to die in the wake of the battle. He knew there was no way that Flemeth would survive her injuries for long, but he would still do everything in his power to try to save her. That was if she could be saved.

“Come,” he said to her softly, “Let me clear all of this off of you.”

“No, old friend,” she said taking one of his hands into her own. “There is no time. I am dying and there is no amount of Magic that can mend me.” She tried to force a smile but she couldn't mask the pain and concern on her face. “There is much I have yet to say and little time in which to say it.” Her voice was raspy and her breathing labored.

“What happened? And where is Rowan?” he asked frantically. He looked around as if at any moment she would appear but there was still no sign of her.

“She... woke up. Your spell ... _miscalculated_ , Solas. She was sleeping all this time!” she exclaimed. “Yesterday... _she woke up_...” her voice trailed off.

Miscalculated his spell? No, that was not possible. Yet if what Flemeth was saying was true that would explain how the enchantment wore off.

“Where... where is she?” he was earnestly frightened to hear the answer. Wherever she was she was still alive and still frightened, he could feel it. Did _They_ have her?

“The mountains, old friend. I sent her off to the mountains. But Solas, listen,” she clenched his hand to pull him in closer. “She has Mythal's god-hood! Mythal separated herself from it and gave it to her! _It cured her!_ ” That's when it dawned on him. Mythal hadn't been slain after all; She had sacrificed herself. She had planned to give up her powers to him but instead she sacrificed herself to save Rowan.

It was the ultimate sacrifice, separating her pure essence and in doing so giving Rowan her powers and god-hood like she had. Such a thing had never been done before! No Evanuris had been willing to do such a thing, sacrifice Themselves for another thus giving up their powers and god-hood. No, the Others had all been too greedy with their supposed immortality.

“Solas,” Flemeth said, “And the Elves, they worshiped her. Their ' _Rowhanna_ ' they call her. And now with the god-hood... her mortal self is slowly fading. Do you understand what that means, old friend? She is semi-immortal, _a fledgling Goddess!_ The transformation is not yet complete, but soon enough she will become as you are, as They are. And she is powerful beyond all measure!”

Solas was beside himself. Goddess worship? Why did he not think of that when he left her here? That the Elvhen would eventually come to see the statue of his beloved as a Goddess figure and worship her, or what kind of affect it would have on her ultimately? A thousand years of Goddess worship now mixed with the god-hood of Mythal. His mind was reeling with this information.

“There is more that you need to know,” Flemeth said trying to remain focused through the pain.

And so she told him everything that had occurred since his Bride had awoken.

She told him how the spell he had cast had been a combination of stasis and slumber that had simply worn off without renewed efforts. She explained to him about her mysterious amnesia and the results of when Flemeth had tested it; The excruciating pain that speaking about her past brought her that prevented her from hearing what had been asked or said. How powerful her abilities were during their session during training. And lastly, how _They_ had come and so she had sent her off towards the mountains.

“Get her to the ruins of Skyhold. It is possible that she will be able to unlock her mind there. You must help her break the curse.” Flemeth wheezed.

Solas deduced that it was no curse or spell that had caused Rowan's mysterious amnesia. It had to have been the god-hood of Mythal entering her just as her soul was about to exit her body, snatching at it and pulling it back within her in her very last moments. A blank slate of immortality causing her to have a blank mind, he surmised. But if what Flemeth had told him was true about the pain, then his Rowan was still in there somewhere, locked away in a maze within her own mind. It was her own mind she was battling against.

Flemeth then told him of the prophecy that Mythal had passed onto her. An unknown evil that would one day come and be unleashed upon the world destroying all of life... _forever_. That Mythal insisted only together could it be defeated.

“You must find her, guide her... _protect_ her.” Flemeth rasped. “Tell her who you are before approaching her and approach her with caution. When you do, remind her to _trust her amulet_. But,” she warned him, “do _nothing_ that would interfere with her retrieving her past. _Nothing_ , do you hear me?”

“I understand,” he said nodding.

Flemeth's breathing was becoming more shallow with every breath and she spoke barely above a whisper now. “One last favor, old friend,” she said with a pained smile. “Make it painless if you can.” He did not want to have to do this, but he could not leave her to suffer either. He had come to care for the human witch as much as he had cared for Mythal. He would ensure her passing was quick and painless. He would honor her last wish.

“Ma nuvenin” he said with great sorrow in his heart ... _As you say_... She was now fading away as Solas cast his spell, guided on a gentle and painless death. The witch of the wilds was no more.

As her last breath escaped her lips the hut slowly dissipated as if it had never been. He pulled down all the spells and wards he originally placed over the Garden. Now the Elves could find it freely, there was nothing left to hide. He didn't dare waste anymore time, he had to head for the mountains, but before doing so he freed Flemeth's body from the rubble and burned her body on a pyre as was the Human custom. She deserved that much from him after all she had done for his Rowan.

He would have to travel by foot now. He could not risk Them honing in on the Griffon so he dismissed it and it flew off in the direction opposite of the mountains in an attempt to throw Them off his trail in case They had picked up on the beasts presence as well as his own. He would have to track Rowan down without the utilization of Magic.

She couldn't be too far ahead, a few hours at most, and he was more than capable of tracking her. He would use his amulet to locate her direction sparingly. That and nothing more than his keen senses. He could not risk even the slightest of spells. Even the ancient Magic of their Amulets could pose a risk now, but using it occasionally was his best option. He had to find her before They did.

She was out in the wilderness now. Frightened, alone, and without her memories. He had to hurry, there was no more time to waste.

He stood and took one last look at the Garden before leaving. It would be mended quickly by its own magic and by the symbiotic relationship it had with the would be lovers that would come to it. The Elves would help tend to the Garden now, and they would continue to worship their _Rowhanna_.

“ _A Goddess for the Garden_ ,” he remembered thinking the last time he was here. Rowan was now intrinsically tied to this place forever. They would continue to worship her, and her powers would expand as a result. How they would manifest or how it would change her he did not know, but the link could not be severed. All he could focus on now was finding her as he trekked out of the garden and down the path. He headed for the mountains that Flemeth had told her to run towards. He had to save his Bride.


	10. The Wolf Den

Rowan ran until she could run no longer. She was out of breath and the ground had long gave way from the plush, green grass to thick, white snow. She staggered between the trees making her way to the mountain pass. The air had grown colder and the wind picked up but strangely enough the cold did not bother her. She chalked it up to her high level of emotions and the amount of running she had done putting as much distance between herself and the Garden as possible as quickly as possible.

She stopped and leaned against a tree as a deep sorrow emanated from her amulet just as she reached the mountain pass. Mother was dead. How she knew this was a mystery to her, but knew it she did. Mother had not survived the encounter in the Garden against whatever adversaries had come that made Mother force her to leave. Tears streamed down her face and she sobbed as she leaned against a tree. She clutched her amulet tightly. Sorrow, fear, and regret flowed out of it and into her hands. It was a curious thing, to own a necklace that flooded her with an onrush of such pure emotion. Why would she own something that would tell her what she already felt? She wanted to yank the thing off from around her neck and toss it into the snow, but once again she hesitated for reasons unknown. A voice inside her insisted that she leave the amulet on and so she did.

She dried her tears then headed for the path that led between the base of two rocky snow covered mountains. That's when she spied it. A noble specimen of a creature. Long slender antlers and features with a silver coat. It's belly was swollen with a fawn. A deer? She stopped and watched silently as the creature stood in the snow. No, she thought, not a deer. Too regal and graceful, and the color was all wrong. She searched her mind for the correct word for what this creature was. A halla! Yes, that was it. It was a halla, a silver halla, and its belly was swollen with child.

Rowan stepped out of the treeline and carefully approached it. It caught her scent and lifted its head in her direction. It looked right at her but showed no signs of fear. Rowan carefully walked over to the halla with her palm outstretched then stood still half expecting it to dart off at any moment. Instead it approached her timidly, then determining that she was no threat, it sniffed the palm of her hand.

Rowan smiled. This was the first wildlife she had seen but she did not think that halla's were silver by nature. No, she thought, silver was not the true color of a halla. Somehow in the recesses of her mind she was able to retrieve that information. This was a unique specimen. Still she was pleased to have gained its trust and when it nuzzled her hand she took it as an indication that it wished to be petted. Rowan cooed at the halla while running her fingers through its soft, silvery pelt.

“What are you doing out here alone, huh girl?” She asked it.

Suddenly the halla stiffened and she heard them. Low growls came from the trees from all around them. In the stark contrast against the white snow she saw a pack of black wolves that had them flanked and encircled. She and the halla were trapped. Rowan's heart skipped a beat and she lunged to one side as one of the wolves pounced in her direction. She took her staff and swung it hitting it hard against its head. There was no way for her or the halla to escape. They were trapped on all sides and with a mountain slope to their backs. The halla bleated and reared up in fear.

Rowan quickly assumed a fighting stance, staff ready for the next attack, keeping one eye on the wolf in front of her and the others in her peripheral vision. She moved to place herself between the halla and the wolves. One lunged at her suddenly and she released a bolt of lightning that clashed out of the sky and struck the wolf killing it instantly. There were eight of them now.

On they came and on she fought unleashing her Magic against them. She dared not to use fire, too afraid to set the trees ablaze, so she trusted her other spells. They came to her naturally and with ease, not having to think for even but a moment on the next volley of Magic. One she felled by strangling it with the branch of a nearby tree. Another she froze until it shattered into a hundred shards. She kept them off balance and thrown back by quaking the earth beneath them as she had with Mother when they were training. The fight seemed to take hours though it only lasted minutes until there were two final remaining wolves. The largest lunged at her knocking her to the ground and her staff flew out of her hand while the other went after the halla.

As the wolf came in for another lunge she rolled to the side towards her staff. Before she could reach it she felt a sharp searing pain on her left hand. She had been bitten. Bolts of fire raced up her arm but she ignored the pain and was able to have enough momentum to gain her footing finally. The wolf stood between her and her staff so she willed her staff to her hands unsure if it would work. Before the large beast could lunge again, her staff was back in her right hand and she struck her hands together creating a loud clap that crushed its skull in using nothing more than the sheer force of he air around it. She stood ready in defense against the remaining wolf when she saw it running off down the path and around the bend heading deep into the mountains.

Before she could take in the horror of the damage she had inflicted upon the wolves she heard the halla bleating in pain. The halla was on its side, a gash from one of the wolf claws on the side of its belly. Rowan dropped her staff and rushed over to it. The wound was deep but not deadly, but she definitely was in need of healing. Rowan did not know what to do so she knelt in the snow on both knees and cradled its head in her lap.

“Shh sweet girl,” she cooed to it trying to calm the injured halla. “Let me take care of this for you.” She packed some snow onto its wound to clean off the blood and slow the bleeding. Now she was able to get a better look. She had no medicine that she knew of, and no idea what she was to do about its wound. She didn't have time to investigate the contents of her pack so she placed one hand on its head and the other on its wound and began humming a tune. She didn't recognize the tune, it just seemed to come to her naturally, so she focused on just shutting her eyes and simply imagined that the halla was healed. She held on to that image firmly while rocking back and forth humming in a sing-song voice. Her hands began to emanate a warmth from them and on she hummed with her eyes closed.

She opened her eyes as soon as she felt the halla stir and watched as it slowly got to its feet. Its wound was gone! Rowan was astonished. She didn't know if what she did would work at all, but there was no signs of the previous wound at all on the creature. It came over as she was still kneeling in the snow and nuzzled her neck in appreciation. She could almost feel its thanks in her head and she smiled at it. “Yes, sweet one,” she giggled at its nuzzling. “You're all better and your fawn is safe. Now return to your herd and do try to stay out of trouble next time!” She smiled as off it bounded into the woods.

Meanwhile Solas had taken a path a little further up the mountain hoping to cut his time in half and be able to find Rowan before she was too far ahead of him. She was close, he could feel it. She had taken the most direct route, he knew, but he had taken one that would hopefully place him in her oncoming path if she stayed true to course.

Suddenly Solas heard fighting up ahead. His senses became more alert. The crackling of magic permeated the air and he heard the unmistakable sound of wolves. What he also heard astounded him. The battle cries of a Mage he would have recognized anywhere. He had found her! _Approach her with caution_  he had been warned, but if she was in danger he had to help her. He rushed around the bend just as he saw Rowan's last victim fall. Its head had caved in as if she had pushed the air around it using it as a forcible object. He could only stand by the tree that blocked him from her view as a lone, black wolf bounded past him in fear.

_A shadow-wolf!_

He quickly took in the scene before him. The remnants of an entire pack of shadow-wolves lay dead in the snow in various states of death. Rowan appeared unharmed and was currently on her knees in the snow cradling the head of a wounded silver halla in her lap. She had one hand placed upon its head and another on a gash wound that the halla would certainly die from. He could hear her humming a tune as she rocked the halla back and forth her eyes shut and smiling. He wondered what she was doing? Then suddenly her hands glowed with a soft white light and the wounds that the halla had suffered were gone. He watched on in amazement as it shuffled to its hooves and nuzzled her neck in thanks. She was cooing at it and talking to the halla as if they understood each other. Then the halla bounded off in the opposite direction.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She was still young and vibrant, her white hair pooled about her shoulders and down her back. She hadn't aged a day since last he laid eyes on her. Slowly he came from behind the tree with his staff in hand in a non-threatening manner.

“I must admit that was most impressive,” he said in a gentle voice slowly emerging from behind a tree. _Approach her with caution_ , and, _powerful beyond all measuring_ bounced around in his head in Flemeth's voice. The carnage alone was enough to give him pause. All but one she had slain.

At the sound of his voice Rowan shot to her feet and darted up the hill to hide behind a tree. He saw that she had blindly left her pack and staff in the snow. She was like a frightened child. _But even without her staff she is not defenseless_ , he reminded himself.

“I apologize,” he said carefully, “It was not my intent to frighten you.” He ensured his voice was as soft and as non-threatening as he could make it.

“You didn't frighten me, I was just...” her voice trailed off before resuming, “You can leave now!” She had reacted so quickly to the sound of the intruder that she didn't get a look at him. _Trust no one but Solas_ , Mother had said. And she had stupidly left her staff in the snow down the bank with her pack! She was stuck!

“I do believe this pack and staff belong to you. Shall I bring it up to you?” The man asked her. He had a velvety soft voice. Full of sweet, soft charm, but she heeded Mother's last words. She would trust no one except the man she called Solas.

“No!” she cried out in alarm. “You just be on your way and I'll retrieve them when you are gone,” she told him. She wondered if she could simply will her belongings to her as she did her staff when she was fighting. She shut her eyes tight and tried but nothing happened. She wondered if it had only worked because she was fighting for her life?

“I'm afraid I can not do that,” the man's voice carried through the trees. “You see, I was sent to find you.”

“Who sent you?” she called out questioningly.

“Why Flemeth did,” responded the man.

Mother! She thought, could she have been wrong and mother yet lived, or was this a trick from one of Them? Her heart pounded in her chest. If Mother was still alive she might need her help!

“Mother sent you?" _Truth or trap_ , she wondered. "Who are you?” she asked, leery of this newcomer. She peeked out from behind the tree tentatively. Her eyes were wide with fear, something he had never seen before. Her lower lip trembling. Snow white hair cascaded down and around to frame her beautiful face. _Mother?_  Solas found that curious. Rowan had referred to Flemeth as “Mother.” Then again he could easily see Flemeth taking on that role with her. 

Rowan peered at the stranger closely. He was tall and without any hair, yet he did not appear to be nearly as old as Mother. As a matter of fact it was hard to gauge how young or how old he truly was, and she only had Mother to go by. He seemed regal and majestic with his slender frame and the way he carried himself. He was holding a staff bearing a wolf head on the top and was wearing a tan tunic with a wolf pelt over one shoulder. Their hearts both skipped a beat as their eyes locked. Something about him said that it was safe for her to come out from behind her tree, but she ignored it. It was a compelling feeling to trust this man she did not know. Almost as natural as she felt trusting Mother. His gray eyes carried a hint of sadness in them. Though she was unaware of the reason, they were all the more sad when he realized that she didn't recognize him. He searched her face for any hint of recognition but found none. He had hoped against all hopes that seeing him would spark some memory but it seemed that her amnesia had locked even his visage away from her.

“My name is Solas," the man said suddenly breaking the silence, "And I am pleased to finally meet you.” He smiled at her nodding his head ever so slightly. 

 _Solas?_ There was that name, the name Mother had spoken, the name that made her brain itch as she had tossed around in her bed. But she needed to be safe, to be careful. His approach had caught her off guard so quickly that she had left her staff in the snow at the bottom of the path near where he stood. He could have attacked her at anytime yet he didn't. Still she recalled Mother's words,  _Trust no one but Solas_.

“How do I know you are who you say you are?” she asked from behind her tree. A test, _Mother's_ test. _Trust your amulet_ , she had said. She waited for his response.

“Ah yes, that,” he said with a warm grin. “Your Mother told me that I was to remind you to trust your amulet.”

Though he gave the correct response that only Mother would have known how was she supposed to test it? She didn't fully understand the Amulet or how to work its Magic. Yet it had warned her of oncoming danger when in the Garden, had it not? Perhaps it could also tell her the truth of who this man claimed to be? She took her Amulet in her hand, closed her eyes, and conjured up his visage in her mind's eye. She was surprised at what she felt; There was a profound sadness yet a kindness beyond even Mother's, and somehow a knowing that the man spoke the truth about who he was. It pulsed in her hand like a gentle heartbeat. She felt reassured, calm and, strangely enough, a sensation of relief washing over her entire self.

Tentatively she emerged from behind her tree one slow step at a time. She stepped over the corpses of the now dead wolves that had attacked her. The man who called himself Solas bent over and picked up her pack and staff she had so foolishly abandoned in her fear at his approach then handed them to her with his long, slender hands.

“I do believe that these belong to you?” he said with a softness to his smile. Still cautious she took her belongings from him. The Amulet must have been right, and Mother said that he alone could be trusted, and if there was anyone that she knew she could trust it had been Mother. Her black eyes gazed up at him and his heart almost stopped when he looked into them.

Mother, she wondered. Could she still be alive? She placed her hand over her Amulet and felt nothing when she thought of her. She struggled to fight back tears not wanting to cry or appear weak in front of this man who was a stranger to her. Timidly she looked away from him. He was torn between emotions. He was pleased to see she had survived, but his heart ached for her to remember him. He just wanted nothing more than to shower her face with kisses as he held her in his arms. A thousand years past and now his own Bride did not know him. He felt her sadness over the knowledge that Flemeth, correction, _Mother_  he reminded himself, had not survived. He could see it written on her face even as she fought to hide it. She couldn't have hidden it from him even if she wanted to. Not with their Amulets. He didn't have the heart to tell her the details, that would have to wait for later.

“I, aah...” she stammered then cleared her throat, “Thank you, Solas.” Something about his presence made her feel awkward and foolish. She found she could not look the man in the eyes when she spoke to him for very long without averting her gaze. “You're the one who is supposed to take me to Tarasyl'an Te'las? Mother said that was where I was to go.” She felt bashful, like a giddy child. Had she never met a man before? Surely she had. Except this was the first time she had met one since her amnesia and she had to tear her gaze away from his when they looked at each other.

“I am,” he said in answer to her question. “It will be a long journey on foot so we will have to find some means of transportation. There is a small village to the North of here where we can procure supplies.” He smiled at her bashfulness making her blush even further. It was a trait he had never seen in her before, this pure innocence. If he hadn't already loved her before he certainly would have loved her now.

Neither of them seemed to want to move, to leave this spot. It was as if time stood still and nothing existed beyond just he and she. Then suddenly the sky darkened just as it had back at the Garden. “Danger!” her mind shouted, her Amulet on fire as before. Solas, too, looked up at the reddening of the skies. “ _Oh no_ ,” he thought. “The Others!” he had to get her to safety. The battle must have caught their attention.

He held out a hand for her to take. “Hurry, before the find us!” Without thinking she took his hand and together they began running. Her heart pounded in her chest. Who were these “Others” that Mother had been so frightened would find her? Part of her wanted to stay and fight, they had killed Mother and she wanted them to suffer for it, but a larger part of her wanted nothing more than to run to wherever this Solas person was taking her.

Together they ran in the direction that the last wolf had bounded off to. She noticed there was a cave up ahead and to their left. “Into the wolves den!” he shouted to her. “We must hurry!” Together they ran through the snow as the sky deepened to almost pitch black and the air began to kick up large gusts of wind that covered their footprints in the snow. They came to the mouth of the cave and fled inside without a moment's hesitation. Rowan didn't have time to stop and process what was going on. She simply followed Solas' instructions blindly trusting this man with her life.

“Stand back!” Solas yelled to her. She backed up far into the back of the cave and made a startled sound when her back hit a wall. Meanwhile she watched on as Solas took his staff and slammed the bottom end onto the cave floor causing rubble to quickly close off their entryway. She could feel the rocks above her head on the outside sliding downward further burying them inside. As the last of the light left them Rowan was startled to see remnants of bones littering the cave floor. His words came back to her, “ _Into the wolves den!_ ” he had shouted. They were in the lair that belonged to the wolves she had fought!

“Come with me!” Before she could process this he grabbed her hand again and in the darkness he led her around a corner of the lair away from the entrance. He took their belongings and placed them on the ground quietly. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and guided her into a crouching position. They clung to each other in the dark, huddled together, as the rumbling of the avalanche could still be felt, her arms wrapping around his waist.

So long as their staffs were not being held or put to use they would not emit enough magic to be detected, Solas knew. These he had laid on the floor before wrapping his arms around her. What she took as a protective motion against the landslide he had created was actually intended to shield their Amulet's magic from The Others. He did not want them to become a beacon in which they would be discovered. Her fear was already a beacon to him, he could not allow Them to hone in on it.

“Shh,” he whispered to her as she looked up into his face. “Don't move and make no sound. And no magic!” She buried her face in his chest, her heart thumping in terror. They were trapped. A few moments later outside she could hear the muffled sound of voices. They seemed to pause near the entrance and she could make out only a few muffled words. She could not make out how many there were nor their gender.

“ _Must have... that way... just a wolf... not here..._ ” was all she could catch, and eventually she couldn't hear anything else as whomever They were lost interest in their location and seemingly moved on. Were they looking for her? Were they looking for him? Or was it both? And the question still remained as to exactly who THEY were.

They stayed crouched down a little longer. Suddenly she realized the only thing she could hear was the gentle thumping of his heartbeat. Solas clung to her as if his life depended on it. Now that he had found her he was not going to lose her. Huddled in the darkness he marveled at the scent of her hair, the faint hint of lilacs. He felt her delicate arms around his waist holding on for dear life, and her face pressed against his heart. He was certain she could feel his heartbeat as it settled into a slow rhythm. The danger was over, but he was hesitant to let her go. He had dreamed of holding his beloved Rowan for so long and now he just wanted to hold her forever.

Reluctantly he slowly unwrapped his arms from around her shoulders and helped her stand up. They were safe for the moment. He had ensured that the avalanche was only enough to cave in the entrance and create enough of a snow-slide to mask its presence. All that remained outside were the paw prints of the lone wolf that had survived her attacks.

“We are safe for now...” he told her looking down at her in the darkness, her arms still wrapped around his waist. She looked at him wide eyed so he gently took her hands and pulled her arms from around him. It would have been unwise not to. To stay standing like that in the darkness with her face upturned and so close to his? He would not have been able to refrain from kissing her. He backed away from her slowly, something he had to force himself to do. “Stay here and I'll build a fire,” he instructed her. “We will camp here for the night and then find a way out tomorrow.”

Rowan did as she was told and stood in the corner as he somehow managed to find kindling in which to build a fire. Somewhere close by she could hear the trickling of water. Once the fire was created she took stock of her surroundings. She had been able to see in the darkness but the fire illuminated their surroundings better. This had definitely belonged to the wolves that had attacked her. The remnants of their victims lay scattered about everywhere. Solas was busying himself with picking the bones up off of the cave floor and moving them all to the back of the alcove of the entrance area they had used. She was grateful for the semi-wall that blocked her view of the pile of bones.

Solas returned when he was done adding leaves from the wolves bedding he had found to the fire. “What if there are more wolves, Solas?” she asked. He chuckled a bit. “I do believe that you single handedly took down the entire pack save but one.”

“But what of it? It could be here. What if it had returned?” He was surprised to find that she could take on a pack of wolves and at the same time worry about a lone wolf.

“That is highly unlikely. I watched as it went running off into the mountains. Very rarely will a lone survivor return to its old lair. It will more than likely find a new one or a new pack to join. And anything else that could pose a threat has long been run off from this cave by the presence of the wolves. Not even giant spiders would be left here to bother us.”

“Giant spiders?” she asked in alarm.

“Ha, ha!” he chuckled. “My apologies, I am joking of course. No giant spiders. I promise.”

 _What an odd man_ , she thought to herself. _To one moment be running for his life and the next to be cracking jokes about giant spiders._ Odd yes... yet strangely charming.

“Come,” he said, “sit by the fire and get warm. I will take a look around and see what this lair holds for us.” There were several off-shoot caverns she noticed as she watched him slip through one to the right.

While Solas explored the cave Rowan rolled out her pack. Mother had been in such a hurry that there were an assortment of items that made no sense. She hadn't the time to pack it properly. Its contents were completely random. She needed to clean her wound off but could not find a rag. She did find the water flask, but it was empty. She looked around for any of the little red bottles that had been on the table but Mother had been in too much of a rush to pack those. She had been certain looking back on it that the little red ones would have helped to heal the bite-mark she bore on her left hand. That's when she realized that her hand stung from the bite.

She stood up, and using what little light the fire cast, slowly began making her way to the sound of the trickling water with her empty flask. She would just have to be satisfied with cleaning it off and wrapping it up as best she could. She would have to find something she could tear up to bandage her hand with as well. Using her sense of hearing to locate the sound of water she dipped down into a small passage where stalactites began to form. Water dripped from them and she was certain she was close. The light from the fire was receding the further she went so she simply attempted to follow the water by hearing.

“No!” she heard Solas cry out alarming her. She lurched a bit startled. Suddenly an arm was around her waist snatched her backwards quickly. He was holding onto her firmly, her back pressed against his chest, his breathing ragged. She was suddenly full of fear and didn't understand why.

“Forgive me but you would have died!” he panted.

He pulled her back a ways gently then with a wave of his free hand created a blue-white flame that floated above his palm keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist protectively. She noticed that the sound of the water had bounced of the cavern walls misdirecting her and he had just stopped her from stepping out onto a sudden drop into sheer darkness below.

“I'm sorry, Solas... I was just looking for water. I only wanted to clean off my wound,” she apologized.

She was wounded? What kind of wound did she have? His eyes got big and she saw even more fear in them than her near fall had caused. “Wound? What wound?” he asked in trepidation. “What kind of wound do you have?” he asked unable to mask the alarm in his face in the flames of the blue-white light in his hand.

“It's nothing really, just a small bite mark on my hand. I wanted to clean it off and bandage it. It's really nothing serious. It isn't even bleeding any longer.” She was her trying her hardest to ease his fears but it wasn't working.

“Come, let's head back to the fire. Allow me to have a look at it.” He motioned for her to follow him led in the darkness by the blue-white flame until they made it back to the makeshift fire. “Sit,” he said motioning to a log he had found. He looked very disturbed. He needed to know if she had been bitten by one of the shadow-wolves. He helped her sit back down and motioned for her hand. She showed him her hand and he took it into his slender fingers turning it this way and that way.

“I don't understand.” She was slightly confused at all of this. “It's just an ordinary bite I sustained when I had been knocked to my feet and was reaching for my staff. It stings, but nothing more,” she assured him.

“Those were no ordinary wolves you were fighting, they were _shadow-wolves_ ,” he said in a tone that was alarming.

“What does that even mean, Solas?” Now it was her turn to be frightened. This sounded dire, the way he placed such emphasis on the term _shadow-wolves_. Was this another one of his jokes as he had joked about there being giant spiders? No, she didn't believe so. He looked genuinely concerned.

“It means we must do something about it before you get infected,” he stated. “I need to take a look and then I'll explain,” he looked more closely at her hand. She had two puncture wounds on her palm and two on the other side of her hand. They weren't too deep but still had broken the skin.

He wasn't certain if the bite of such a wolf would have the same effect on her as it did on the other Elvhen. She still had some mortality left to her, that's what Flemeth had told him, which meant she was still possibly vulnerable to its poison. He could not risk it. And if it didn't affect her in the same manner and she healed rapidly he would have to explain that. Another thing he could not risk. Not yet, not until she was ready to hear such truths about herself.

“I still don't understand, Solas. What has you so worried?” she asked breaking his concentration. "And what is a shadow-wolf?"

“My apologies. I forgot that with your amnesia you would not remember these things,” he lied. He hated lying to her like this and hoped that she didn't sense the lie in his voice. There was no way for her to have known what had happened to the world while she had spent her life in a long spell-induced slumber, but he couldn't let on that while the world was destroyed and remade she spent her time in a magical state either. He could at least tell her this much as it would not trigger her amnesia.

“Over a thousand years ago, a great calamity befell the entire world,” he began as he stood and grabbed his pack. “The land burned in a chaos that nearly destroyed everything. It scorched the lands and boiled the seas. Great cities fell in the chaos, forests were ablaze with flame. Millions of people perished as well as many other races.” He looked at her to gauge her reaction when he said “races” but all he saw was her piqued interest in the tale. “All that remains now are the Elvhen people, our people. Many believe that the Gods were angered by the state of the world and deemed that only the Elvhen were worthy of saving. Yet the scorched land was, and still is, deadly to the touch. Nothing survives it.”

Gently he cleaned her wounds with fresh water and a rag he had removed from his pack. Not wanting to let go of her delicate hand he looked it over again more closely this time. He saw no signs of infection but he decided to make a poultice and tea for her anyhow. He wouldn't be able to explain to her that she was semi-immortal and thus would mystically heal herself. He was unsure how that information would affect her. So he continued dabbing blood from her hand and went on with his tale.

“Legend has it that a pack of black wolves were running from a predator that hunted them. They reached the edges of the scorched land but there was safety on the other side not too far off. In an attempt to jump over the scorched land they didn't make it. All died instantaneously save one, lone wolf; A female who was pregnant with a litter of pups as it were.”

He let go of her hand and pulled out some herbs from his pack along with a small kettle. He poured some water into it and began steeping various herbs in the kettle over the fire waiting for it to boil.

“She became the first of her kind," he went on. "And her litter was born creating the first pack of their kind. Shadow-wolves they are called by the people; monstrous shadows of what they once were. Larger, stronger, and deadlier than their ancestors. Due to the poison of the land that she had endured she and her pups evolved into the most deadliest of wolves; their bite so poisonous that it can kill prey within hours. Eventually they bred with other wolves and now their numbers have grown though they are not as deadly as the first of their kind. However, even the smallest of scratches can kill. Often they use this to hunt larger prey and continue to track it until it succumbs to their poison so they can feed.” Rowan shuddered to think of it and looked at her hand.

Once the herbs were done steeping he created a poultice wrap for her hand and some tea. "Here, allow me to see your hand." He wrapped the poultice around her hand then covered it with a clean rag tying it off gently. The herbal wrap stung her puncture wounds a little and a slight hiss escaped her lips. “I should have warned you that it would sting a little,” he apologized. “That is good, it means it is working. Now allow me to look you over a little, I need to be certain you weren't scratched either.”

Rowan allowed Solas to raise up her sleeves and inspect her arms. He then gently grabbed the hem of her dress and inspected her legs placing one foot in his lap at a time as he did so. He tried very hard not to allow himself to look any further than was necessary for the sake of her modesty only going so far as her knees. He hoped that the blush that came to his face while he inspected her was not obvious in the firelight. As a distraction for them both he went on with what he was saying.

“We Elvhen are not immune to the scorched land nor the shadow-wolves any more than any other animal or beast. Its poison kills and when on the rare occasion that it doesn't it drives its victims insane until they are mercifully put to death by their Clan. Some take their own life. There are still several areas of such land, although not as much as there once was. The land is still healing after a thousand years, but even after all these years so-called cures are never a guarantee.”

He moved behind her and lifted the full weight of her long hair so he could inspect the back of her neck. _This is not necessary_ , he thought to himself but he could not bring himself to stop. The scent of lilacs hit his nostrils again and the sweet scent of her skin made his heart skip. Finally he gently draped her hair over her shoulders and sat on a rock on the other side of the fire. He dared not stay close to her for too long. The urge to gather her in his arms and kiss her was becoming hard to control. _Do nothing to interfere_ , he had also been warned. He was unsure if kissing her would jolt her memory or just the opposite. He could not risk it so he simply sat back down on the other side of the fire. She rearranged her hem so that if fell back around her feet.

“If you see such land dare not to tread on it for it will surely kill you. It is black and with glowing red veins. One can not mistake it. And if by chance it doesn't kill you then it will certainly drive you to insanity,” he warned her. “With any luck you need not worry about it as we will not be separated during our travels.”

“Am I going to die or go insane?” she asked in alarm looking at her now bandaged hand then back to Solas.

“No, that I can promise you,” he answered with a smile. “I have a remedy against such bites that can slow the poison and prevent it from spreading. With luck it will be healed by morning.” More than likely her newfound god-hood would be what heals her, but for now he had to keep up appearances. He began mixing the tea for her from the same herbs he used for her wrap. When it was done he brought it to her.

“Now drink this as well,” he said handing her the cup.

She took the cup, then before taking a sip, looked up at him and asked, “I thought you said there was no cure?”

“No real cure against the land, but a bite from the wolves in time can be caught.” Again, another lie escaped his lips. This time it was only half a lie. 

She sipped at the contents of the teacup, then scrunched up her nose in distaste shaking her head. It was bitter. She went to hand the cup back to him. “No, you must drink it all. And don't sip it, you must drink it all at once. We must get it into your system, this will help prevent any infection from from getting into your blood.” He understood how she felt, he detested tea himself.

“Ugh, that was awful! What was it?” It wasn't the sweet kind of tea Mother had made for her that night of the storm.

“My own concoction of elfroot and dawn lotus, both healing herbs, as well as a few other secret ingredients,” he smiled. “Now I'll go find the water source and setup some light for you so you can clean up and change if you wish. As I stated we shall be spending the night here and tomorrow we will figure another way out.” Again, that nod of his as he walked away smiling at her. There was something about him that was strangely familiar to her just as Mother had been. Mother had said he was a trusted friend, so had they met and she just couldn't recall it?

Then there was the way his name had bounced around in her head from the moment she had first heard it that stormy night when Mother tested her amnesia, the way she couldn't shake it out of her mind. Not to mention he acted in a fashion as if he knew her but had yet to give any indication as to the nature of their relationship. Little bells went off in her head telling her that they did indeed know each other. She wondered in what capacity? He offered her nothing in the way of even the slightest of hints, but that could be due to her amnesia of which he seemed to be aware. He must have seen Mother before she died, she concluded. He knew about Mother, he knew about her Amulet, and he knew about her amnesia. _Just how much had Mother been able to tell him before her death_ , she wondered.

He waved his hand in an elegant gesture and that same blue-white flame materialized in the palm of his hand. She had never seen anything like it before. Or had she? So many things seemed familiar and both strange to her at the same time. It was the little things, such as the way he walked, the way he looked at her when he was worried, most especially the way he smiled at her and the soft velvety tone of his voice when he spoke.

She found couldn't take her eyes off of him. Everything about him was regal and bespoke a certain grace. The way he moved, his gestures, how he stood, his facial expressions. Then there was the way he looked. His gray eyes were somewhat sad looking, except for when he laughed. She couldn't tell if he used a blade to cut off all of his hair or if he simply did not grow any. It made determining his age difficult though she was certain she was but a naive child to him. His ears were much longer and elegant than Mother's had been. He had a gentle mouth and a sweet smile and she had noticed a small scar on his forehead from earlier. He had a strong nose and his chin slightly dimpled as well. She found him to be a complete enigma and was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Then there was the way her skin would tingle at his touch that left her with even more questions than answers.


	11. A Way Out

Solas had found the water supply that Rowan had heard and attempted to locate blindly; it was a small fount of water that came out of a crevice in the cave wall to form a small pool on the cavern's floor. It was just in view of the campsite with a semi-wall formation that would offer some privacy, yet she had walked right past it and had hung a right instead nearly falling to her death. For safety purposes he fashioned a makeshift veilfire brazier on the far wall so she would be able see and another one up a little further off as a perimeter marker so she would know not to go any further than there. He couldn't have her wandering around the cavern again. She would either fall or get so lost he would never be able to locate her.

While Solas was busy with that Rowan pulled out the contents of her pack. She took stock of what was in it. There was some dried beef, a small loaf of bread, her empty water-skin, two dresses, a nightgown, an extra pair of slippers, a dagger, a bedroll of sorts, a small blanket, a hair comb, and lastly a bar of soap that smelled of lilacs. There were no pants or shirts, no rags, no boots, nothing of real use for her journey save for the food rations. _Not much at all to be had in the way of survival,_ she thought. Then again Mother didn't have the time she needed to pack properly. Solas was correct, they would have to procure supplies soon enough.

The fire was warming her up well enough so she removed her cloak. All her clothing was dirtied and bloodied from the battle so she would have to wash those as well as herself. Suddenly Solas returned with a torch that emanated the same blue-white magical flame he had conjured in his hand earlier.

“I do believe I have found what you were searching for. Come, with me, I'll lead the way.” he motioned for her to follow him.

“What manner of flame is that?” she asked in regards to the blue-white flame.

“It is called veilfire. It's a form of sympathetic magic. It needs neither wood nor oil but can easily be extinguished with water. Come, we are not far off. Perhaps later I will teach you how to make it,” he said with a smile. Odd, she could have sworn she had seen something like that before but couldn't recall where. Certainly not at Mother's.

He led the way to the fountain and pool of water which was closer than she anticipated. There was a brazier he had constructed on the wall with the same veilfire as his torch. _How could she have missed it?_ she wondered. She had walked right by it in the darkness! Yet she could still hear how it bounced off the walls like an echo everywhere. No wonder she had walked past it. The sound was coming from everywhere and she saw how easy it was for her to miss in the dark.

“If you look,” he said pointing back the way they came, “you can see the camp easily from here, but I thought that you might wish to have light in which to bathe, hence the veilfire. The water is cold, but safe enough. And the wall affords some manner of privacy, though not much I'm afraid.” He was correct of course, over the partial wall she could make out the campfire and the wall would only cover up her lower half of her body. However she trusted that Solas would respect her privacy so was not too concerned with it.

“I have placed another brazier just up ahead over there,” he said pointing towards it. “Do you see?” She nodded. “Good, whatever you do, do not wander past that point. Stay within these two braziers and you should be safe enough. Before I go I must ask, how is your hand feeling?”

She looked at her bandaged hand having forgotten completely about it. “The stinging has stopped,” she remarked. “It feels better, thank you.”

“Very good. Tomorrow I will take another look at it. The water should not do it any harm. Now, is there anything that I can get for you?” he asked.

She easily could have returned to the camp and fetched her own belongings but since he insisted she said, “I don't seem to have anything to clean or dry off with. I do have a nightgown and some soap. Mother was... well, there just wasn't time to pack properly,” said sadly.

“Not to worry I have spare supplies, I'll bring you something.” He went back to camp and gathered her belongings along with two rags in which to clean and dry off with. They weren't much but they would suffice. The soap he noticed smelled of her, well of lilacs really. So that's where the scent came from. It suited her well. He shook the thoughts out of his mind trying not to dwell on the scent of her skin and hair. Even the nightgown seemed to be made to entice him, it was of flimsy material and he wondered if Flemeth had planned it that way? No, he deduced from what little things she had unpacked that Flemeth had been in too much of a rush to pack properly as she had stated. The Others had come down on them too quickly before Flemeth had sent Rowan on her way.

“Here you go,” he said handing her the items. “I'll return to the campfire and cook us something to eat while you clean up.”

Once Solas had returned to camp she stripped off her battered and dirty dress and draped it over the wall beside her slippers. She wasn't too worse for wear but a good cleaning would make her feel all that much better. She tentatively stepped one foot into the pool of water. It was cold. Funny how the cold outside hadn't bothered her but the water made her shiver a bit. She forced herself to stand beneath the fount of water that poured out of the cave wall and stood there adjusting to the temperature as it ran down her head and soaked her hair. She then took the soap to her hair and body scrubbing down the best she could. She scrubbed until her skin was nearly raw as if in an attempt to wash away the day's memories, she allowed herself this moment to shed more tears over the loss of her Mother. Once she regained her composure she took the larger rag and dried off. She would be happy to get back to the fire, the water had chilled her to the bone and she would welcome the fire's warmth.

From where Solas sat he make out Rowan as she bathed from the waist up, the veilfire casting a blue hue on her skin. Thankfully the semi-wall did not show her entire body for he remembered all too well how it felt beneath him when they made love in the Garden. Seeing her in the flesh again after so long did nothing but fuel his arousal so he averted his eyes and moved his back to her allowing her some privacy. He occupied his mind with cooking vegetable stew to distract himself and prevent his attention from drifting back to watching her bathe, though the image still burned in his head. She easily drove him to the brink of madness and he must control himself around her.

While cooking he realized that she still hadn't given her name and he had yet to ask. It had been a difficult task to refrain from calling her Rowan. _Rowhanna the Goddess of Love_ , he thought. He didn't know what Flemeth had called her, if anything, or whether or not she had been able to remember her own name. He suspected that if she couldn't remember anything about herself then she wouldn't have been able to recall her name as well. He would have to make a point to inquire her about that and to do so casually. He wished to avoid triggering her amnesia so he would have to settle on whatever name she gave him.

Before returning to camp Rowan had slipped the nightgown over her head. Immediately she felt embarrassed for it was not very modest at all. She wished for her cloak, or her blanket, anything to mask how improper her current clothing was. She was certain her body showed through it even if ever so slightly. She hoped that he wouldn't notice until she could make it to her blanket. In the meantime she left her dress and slippers where she had placed them. She would clean them in the morning, she thought.

When he heard her make her way back up to camp he looked up and simply stared at her. Her nightgown showed off the outline of her entire body in the glow of the fire. Her nimble legs, tiny waist, the gentle swell of her hips, and the way her breasts pressed against the flimsy fabric. He tried to tear his eyes from her but found he could not. Her hair was still wet so her features were not hidden away by it so much as before. He remembered all too well every bit of her face; her high cheekbones, how her jaw line came to a fine angle, and the taste of her plush, pale lips upon his. Then there were her eyes. Large almond shaped eyes that were so black they seemed as if they held the universe within them.

“I apologize,” she said in regards to her lack of proper attire. “It seems that Mother didn't choose very well in the way of clothing.” She quickly snatched up her blanket and wrapped it around her frame and sat down on the log across from him. She was too busy looking at the floor and blushing herself to notice the flush in his face. She had never felt more exposed than she did right now.

He had to tear his eyes off of her and return his attention to the stew to avoid looking at her though she was now bundled up. “The fault is mine, I'm afraid. It has been a long time since I have seen a woman as … stimulating to look upon as you.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. They were both blushing now, faces flushed red by the compliment, so he simply spooned some stew into a bowl and handed it to her.

“I made plenty for both of us,” he said avoiding making direct eye contact. “I hope you don't mind but I saw what little you had available and I don't mind sharing. Please, by all means, eat.”

They both ate in silence. She looked at him sheepishly from under her eyelids and noticed that he, too, had changed. He was now wearing a simple green tunic and brown pants that were cut below the knees.

In an attempt to break the now awkward silence between them Solas spoke. “It just occurred to me that I don't know your name. Flemeth, I mean your Mother, didn't have the opportunity to tell me before she... passed on.” he looked at her to gauge her reaction to the news though he was certain she already suspected. He recalled how she had touched her hand to her amulet as if looking for the answer, but what she didn't know, couldn't have known, was that it only worked between the two of them and in extreme cases such as giving off a warning of imminent danger in regards to either of them. Then there was the ability to track one another. Bound as they were their Amulets could pinpoint each others location like a compass leading one to the other. No, she could not possibly know the nature of her necklace and how it truly worked though he was certain she had already picked up strong emotions from him as he did from her. It made being attracted to her all the more difficult to withstand. They were feeding each other these rising desires one wave after another and her attraction to him had been almost immediate just as it had been back at Haven. "I apologize," he said. "I shouldn't have brought up her death so soon after."

After a long pause she finally said, “I think I already knew that Mother was gone. It hurts. She was kind to me, but she didn't have a name for me either. She simply called me 'child' all the time,” she smiled at the memory. “We didn't have a chance to discover my name. I think she felt she couldn't tell me my name because of my amnesia since I couldn't recall it myself. I can hear the names of other people it seems, but nothing about myself. Her last instructions to me was that I was to choose a name for myself and so I chose to call myself 'Rowan'.” She choked back the tears that threatened to rise to the surface.

 _Rowan? How had she had come about choosing her own name?_  he wondered. _Was her mind attempting to piece itself back together?_ If so that was remarkable and filled him with hope.

“And what, may I ask, made you choose that name in particular?” he asked softly.

“It is a silly story, really, come to think of it. As I was running I recalled the lone Rowan tree in the Garden and it seemed … fitting at the time. Perhaps I always had an affinity for that tree? I felt as if I had lived there or in the least been there before. I recall that being the one thing that truly stood out in the Garden among all the flowers. It was alone in the Garden and then I was alone in the world, so I chose to call myself Rowan. It feels good to say it,” she gave him that quirky smirk she had always had that he loved so much. He smiled in return.

“That is a good name and the people have a saying they would use often for it; ' _Rowan is the tree of power, causing life and magic to flower._ ' I think it suits you perfectly,” he declared.

When she finished her stew she handed him the bowl. Absentmindedly she picked up the hair comb from the floor. It was made of strong, black scales of some sort of beast with metal combs. The black scales were shaped in the likes of a winged lizard. _No,_ she corrected herself, _it was a Dragon_. And it was designed to pin up her hair. “This belonged to Mother,” she said with certainty. “It seems like something she would have owned though I can't say for certain why. She must have wanted me to have it.” She looked at him tentatively, “I know this is hard for you, I know that the two of you were close, but would you tell me how she went?”

“She fought bravely until the very end. She held them off as long as she could, but I arrived too late I'm afraid. I'm sorry,” Solas choked on his words. “There was nothing I could do for her except make her passing painless. And yes we were close friends, although we had not seen each other in a very long time.” _A thousand years to be exact,_ he thought to himself.

“These Others, Who or What are They, Solas? Can you tell me that much? And what would They want with me?” she asked. She needed to know what made Them such a threat to her and to Mother. Why They had come after Mother, and why Mother was so afraid of Them finding out about Rowan?

“I'm not certain this is the wisest course of action. Some of this might cause you pain,” he said looking at her. She cast him a look as if to say, _I'm no child, Solas_. Now THAT was a look he was familiar with. He sighed.

“I'll have to simplify it and leave out names for your sake,” he stated. “The Others were once such powerful Mages that They had begun to see Themselves as would-be Gods. One could say that They are almost immortal, for Their life span is beyond counting, but They _can_ be killed though not so easily. In the beginning They taught the people many things; The art of crafting, of hunting, and justice. They were venerated and worshiped by the people which amplified Their powers beyond measuring. Eventually in Their quest for more power They turned Their backs against the people and began warring among each Other; always striving for more, killing the best of Their kind or any who stood in Their way. They fight any who dare to oppose Them or strike Them down. To date there are only three remaining, but until They are gone the people and the world are not safe. They would rather see this world burn again.”

Her brain began to tingle a little. Some of what he said drifted in and out almost bringing the pain to the surface, but much of what he said was another sensation of something familiar, a tale she had heard once in another life. “So why were They after Mother? Was she one of Them? And what of me? Did They do this to me?” she asked him.

“Flemeth? No, but she was a powerful mage that stood against Them just as I stand against Them. They sought her out for Their own petty revenge. They knew how easy it would be to overpower her were she alone, after all she was no longer as powerful as she once was. They also knew that I would not have been able to come to her aid in time.” _No not Flemeth,_ he thought, _it had been Mythal they were after,_ but he had omitted those details from the tale. “As for you, They would not have bothered with a curse such as yours, They simply would have seen you dead.”

“Tell me the truth, she wasn't really my mother was she? Flemeth, that is,” she asked.

“I'm afraid not, Rowan, though it was obvious to even me that she loved and cared for you as her own. That is what made your Flemeth so special.” He smiled sweetly.

Rowan placed the hair comb down with her other possessions gently. “I suspected as much, though I will always remember her as Mother. Her memory deserves that much from me for all she did. _These Others will pay for what They did to Mother._ ” Her voice was suddenly filled with pure venom and rage, her eyes reflecting the flames of the fire like a mirror to match her sudden anger. The room grew warmer and the flames flickered angrily. Almost as quickly as it was there it was gone. _Power beyond all measure,_ he had been warned. _She would have to learn to tame it lest it consume her,_ he thought. She looked across the campfire at Solas as if nothing had happened. “When Mother made me leave she said I was too important for Them to find out about me. Do you know what she meant by that?”

“I'm afraid I can not say.” He knew he could tell her nothing about her past, but what about her true nature now? _No,_ he thought. _She was not ready. Not yet._ She felt that it was something he was withholding from her. Again how she knew she did not know, but she knew. Yet she decided not to press the issue. _He must have his reasons._

She sighed. “Is there anything you _can_ tell me? Anything at all?” she pleaded with him.

“I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that. It will always be a gamble with such a thing. And the more your amnesia is triggered the more you stand a chance of your memories remaining locked away forever.” He had to admit he wasn't certain of that himself.

“What of you and I?" she asked him. "Your name, when Mother said it to me, it was familiar. And your face when I first saw you, again it was familiar. We know each other, don't we?” she simply asked.

“Yes and that is all I can say on the matter, I'm afraid. Anything else will certainly do nothing but bring you pain.” She looked at him pleadingly but he shook his head gently. “No, I can not.” he stated.

“Try, Solas. Tell me something, _anything!_ ” There had to be something between them. If not now then once before. She could see it in the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't noticing, the way his eyes smiled at her, the tenderness in his voice. There was something there, she could feel it. She searched his face for clues.

Solas sighed but decided to tell her what would be a very intimate detail regarding them both. After all he needed to see this amnesia for himself at least once and test what he could say and what he could not say. He would tell her one simple truth, the one that mattered to him the most.

“You are my Wife,” he blurted out.

All she heard were the first two words _"You are..."_ when the world went dark and there was that stabbing pain in her head, her ears ringing loudly. This was worse than ever before. Rowan grabbed her head and doubled over in pain. Suddenly she slumped to the floor unconscious. Solas rushed to her side calling out her name.

“Rowan? Rowan! Are you alright?” he cried out. He gathered her limp body into his arms. What had he done? Flemeth had warned him but he had still been caught off guard by the severity of its affect on her. He had to get her to Skyhold and hope it was the key that Flemeth believed it to be. Her eyes fluttered open after what seemed to be an eternity, and she pressed the fingers of one hand to her head and groaned. The pain subsided and she could barely make out what he was saying as the world came back into focus. He was calling her name. It sounded distant at first and then everything became more clear.

“Are you alright?” he asked her and she looked up at him, panic and fear imprinted all over his face.

“I'm fine, at least I think I am.” that's when she noticed that he was kneeling on the ground and she was cradled in his arms. He held her tightly as if not wanting to let her go. And he didn't want to. Making the journey to Skyhold they were bound to run into Them. He wanted to take her back to the Sanctuary for a cure instead. Surely one could be found there, but Flemeth had insisted that she had to retrieve her memories naturally from Skyhold alone.

She felt safe and comforted in his arms and smiled up at him now that the pain was gone. She wanted to erase the worry in his face so she stroked his cheek gently. She was fighting the urge to pull his face to hers and kiss him. She didn't know what it was about this man that made her feel this way but the attraction had been there from the first time she laid eyes on him. It made her wonder all the more what it was he had tried to tell her that her mind refused to let her hear?

Her soft caress was so familiar and he had missed it so very much. Suddenly Solas shook his head as if to break away from her spell and gently took her hand in his removing it from his cheek. It had been all too tempting to kiss her when he was holding her like this. She looked so small and vulnerable in his arms, and he remembered the last time he held her limp body a millennium ago as she was fading away from him. He pushed the memory from his mind and helped her to stand. He steadied her until he was certain her legs would not give out on her.

“Perhaps it's best that we get some sleep,” he said said backing away from her. “We will need to find a way out of here tomorrow and see where it leads us.”

Although sleep sounded good, she wasn't certain she would be able to. At first he was just a name in her head, but now she had a face, a voice, and the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers. Troubled sleep awaited her, she knew. She made her bedroll and laid down near the fire anyhow.

Solas laid his out on the opposite side of the fire putting distance between them. He, too, would have a hard time sleeping. The way her upturned face looked at him as if begging to be kissed, and he had almost given in to the temptation. _Do nothing to interfere,_ he reminded himself. He knew he would be hard pressed to resist her forever. _Get her to Skyhold,_ he told himself.

* * *

_Rowan was standing atop a small hill and she and her group were surrounded by demons everywhere. She, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Solas stood ready for the first wave of attack as they closed in. It was always the four of them, she noted. They made a great team. Cassandra and Blackwall cut through the first wave of demons using their swords and shields as she and Solas helped from afar sending wave after wave of Magic. It was best that they stay back a ways so as not to be a liability, their armor nowhere near as defensive as the two warriors. Besides, their Magic traveled far enough to reach the demons from where they stood._

_They had stumbled upon the Rift and there had been six black and brown monstrous creatures already on the ground having poured out from a hole in the sky. There was no time to think, just act. They had to seal it off but the demons would need to be dealt with first._

_Rowan fought with a determination that matched Cassandra's. These demons had terrorized Thedas long enough, she thought, and there were still plenty of such tears across the land to take care of. Right now it was one task at a time. Rowan let out a series of chain lightning that struck two demons that had gotten too close to her and Solas. Solas had immediately pulled up a barrier of protection around them. Cassandra and Blackwall were making fast time out of the ones they were fighting when suddenly Cassandra made a dash to where she and Solas stood, holding their ground, in order to help them fend off the monsters. Though they were both powerful Mages in their own rights, one or both of them could easily be taken down if they became overwhelmed and outnumbered._

_Finally the last wave was gone and it was safe to use the green mark on her hand to close the Rift safely. She raised her left hand and a stream of green light poured out of her hand towards the tear in the sky. Once it made contact she held onto it and began pouring everything she had into it until she felt the Rift weaken._

_The mark on her palm burned even more now as it made contact, but it was ready to be closed. With a tightening of her left hand she finally sealed it all the way. The sky cracked with a loud “BOOM!” and suddenly it was gone and the sky was finally healed. This area was safe again at least. She let her staff drop to the ground and clutched her left arm with her right hand trying to squeeze off the residual pain but to no avail as she dropped to her knees. It burned her palm even when she wasn't fighting demons and she had to learn to fight through the pain._

_The scenery slowly faded and she was surrounded by a green fog everywhere, the landscape changing and fluctuating about her when suddenly a young man with blonde, scraggly hair and a large brimmed hat appeared before her and looked at her. “Cole?” she asked but he only smiled and spoke two words, “Wake up!”_

* * *

Suddenly rowan awoke crying out in pain. She had bolted upright and was clutching her left arm and her hand felt like it was throbbing. As the nightmare faded so did the details she was trying to hold onto. When she came to fully she realized she was in a sitting position. The nightmare was receding from her though she fought hard to not let it slip away. _Their names,_ she thought trying to conjure up the two warriors, _what were they again?_ she asked herself. _And the curious young man, who was he again?_ All she could remember were the monsters, and vague outlines of faces of a strange looking man and woman. Then a sea of green and the compassionate face of another young man. She had spoken his name but she couldn't remember it now. The nightmare seemed more like a memory than a dream, she thought as she still clutched her left arm in pain.

Solas heard her cry out in the darkness. The light from the fire had burned down to embers but with his Elvhen sight he was able to easily rush to her side. He noticed she was clutching her left arm and he thought the worse; _the venom from the bite had infected her!_

“It's alright, Solas,” she said as he knelt beside her. “I had a nightmare is all. It just... seemed so real!” She looked up at him, “We were fighting and there were these horrible creatures everywhere. And my hand, it was green on the palm and extremely painful. But these _things_ , they were monstrous and deformed. There were others there, and then a young man with a funny hat spoke to me right before I woke up.”

 _She had been dreaming about closing a Rift,_ he thought. He wondered if she would dream of other things, and if so, was it possible that her memories were trying to surface on their own?

“Shh there's nothing to worry about,” he said. “The pain in your hand is the most likely culprit and dreams, even bad ones, have a way of slipping our minds soon as we wake. Here let me have a look your hand.”

Solas went about relighting the fire, this time he used a simple spell. He needed to look at her hand. He undid her bandaging and prepared for the worse; black spider veins coursing through her skin, the signs of the venom snaking through her veins. He looked only to find that the skin was healing itself over the puncture marks. Even the redness that was present beforehand was gone. There was no sign of infection at all. He let out a sigh of relief.

“There, you see? You're healing already. Quite well I might add.” Even he was astonished at the rapid rate her body was healing itself. He knew his poultice held no credit for it. “The fact that you were involved in a battle today might also have caused the nature of the nightmare. You had a very traumatic day. I would suggest that you allow me to give you something that will ease your sleep. I'll even sweeten it for you,” he smiled.

While he brewed his concoction the throbbing in her hand began to recede. She looked it over. Indeed it looked to be healing quite nicely. He was good at what he did, she had to admit that. But she knew he was a Mage, she had seen his staff and how effortlessly he had created the veilfire with but a flick of his wrist. He very well might even be more powerful than Mother had been. _Had he also used magic to heal her?_ she wondered.

He came over with another cup of tea and handed it to her. “Blood Lotus,” he explained, “and sweetened with honey. It should ease your dreams for the rest of the night so you can get some real rest. It's still late and you need your sleep.”

She drank the tea, it was still slightly bitter but not as bad as the other stuff he had given her. She looked up at him before handing him the cup back. “Solas? Can I sleep with you? I'm afraid. I know it's imposing and it's silly, but it's just for tonight I promise.”

With that look of fear in her eyes how could he deny her? Besides the Blood Lotus would have her asleep shortly so he nodded and helped her to her feet. He grabbed her blanket for her and helped her walk over to his bedroll. Her legs were already weakening from the tea, it acted quickly, and her eyes were drooping so he helped her lay down and then climbed in with her.

“Hold me, please,” she asked. She was trembling ever so slightly still shaken from her nightmare. He knew full well what she had dreamed of, but he never once considered that the anchor had caused her so much pain. She had hid it well from him and the others and had never spoken of it. He also knew who she had dreamed about, their old team; Cassandra and Blackwall.

And the young man? That could have been none other than Cole. Cole, a Spirit of Compassion, no doubt would have come to the aid of one of his fondest friends in her moment of need. He hoped only that Cole realized enough not to make his presence known to her yet.

She nestled her head in the crook of his left arm and he held her as she drifted off. The warmth of her body pressed against him made sleep difficult, so he simply laid there for awhile just enjoying the feeling of holding her, being the protector, the scent of lilacs on her skin and hair and the way she draped one leg across his as she drifted off in his arms was relaxing.

He brushed her hair back from her face and planted a small kiss on top of her forehead. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered to her softly after he was certain she had drifted off. ... _I love you, my heart_... He was able to hold his bride in his arms at last, even if she did not yet know that's what she was. Eventually he also fell asleep with one arm around her shoulders and in his sleepiness casually placed his other arm around her waist.

Thankfully Solas woke before she did. He realized that in his sleep his right hand had drifted from her waist down to her hips. Her leg was now nestled on top of the growing erection he had developed as they slept and her body was curled around his left side. The blankets had slipped away in the night and he could see her night gown had hiked up to just below her backside. He caught himself just as he had begun to slide his hand down to cup it and caress it. He groaned. He couldn't let her find them like this. Him touching her so intimately? Not to mention his arousal. Surely she would feel that beneath her leg were she to wake now. No, he had to climb out without waking her.

Carefully he moved her leg off of him and released her from his arms. She moaned in her sleep. He was grateful that she was still under the influence of the tea from earlier. She would not awaken as he dragged himself out of the bedroll. He had no choice but to do so. Staying would be dangerous. He wanted nothing more than to lay there and awaken her with sensual kisses along her neck and collarbone, to caress her body until it responded to his touch. He desired to lift up her flimsy nightgown and trail kisses on her breasts down to her abdomen and make his way all the way to her mound. He yearned to part her legs so that he could taste her sex. The images of doing this were too sharp in his mind. He would have to head to the pool of water and cool himself off before he did anything rash. Before leaving he pulled her nightgown back down so she was no longer partially exposed, his fingers grazing her flesh. He hesitated ever so slightly before covering her with the blanket.

In their time at Skyhold he had never lay with her. He couldn't bring himself to do so without her knowing the full truth of who he was. They had but that one day together so long ago, but now he couldn't bring himself to lay with her until she knew the full truth about _them_. Yes, cold water would do him some good, he thought.

When Rowan awoke she noticed that Solas was gone. She was still groggy from the tea and rubbed her eyes when she sat up trying to shake off its effects on her. A fresh fire had been built but he was nowhere to be found. She looked over at the cascading water where the veilfire was still lit but he wasn't there either.

She shook her head trying to clear her mind. True to his words she had no more nightmares. Instead she had dreamed that she was being made love to in the Garden by a mysterious lover. She couldn't conjure up the man's face or name, but the words, “ _Ar lath ma, vhenan_ ” bounced around in her head. If only she could remember even the man's voice, but upon waking all details of her mystery lover escaped her. She hoped Solas hadn't noticed that she had been in the throes of such an erotic dream. She could still feel the man's hands on her skin.

She steadied herself against the wall as she stood until she was certain she could walk without falling. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders remembering how embarrassed she felt in her nightgown. Then she headed towards the first brazier on the wall. It was still lit. Her dress and cloak were draped with care sitting beside her slippers. Everything had been cleaned she noticed. She walked to the second brazier, the point that she was not to pass and looked down each corridor but still didn't see him. He couldn't have left her, all his things were still back at the camp. So she turned around and headed back grabbing her clothing from the small wall as she went.

She took the time she had for privacy to get dressed. Another dress, this one made of black velvet. _Far too elegant for traveling,_ she thought as she put it on. It showed off her cleavage which made her blush, but the other dress, which was a dark blue, was no better. She put on the other pair of slippers that were a matching black and collected her other belongings. She began repacking everything save her cloak. She inspected it. He must have cleaned everything while she slept. They were spotless.

Suddenly Solas appeared from around a bend smiling. “Sleep well?” he asked her. “Yes, I... thank you.” She smiled back.

“Come, gather your belongings,” he said picking up his possessions and placing them back into his pack. When he finished he grabbed his staff. "Follow me," he said. She fastened her cloak around her neck so she wouldn't have to carry it, hefted her pack over her back, grabbed her staff, and followed him. He was carrying another veilfire torch and turned down a corridor that led downwards and to the left.

“I do believe I have found a way out." he said with a huge grin.


	12. A Fine Time to Remember

“What am I looking at exactly?”

After several twists and turns later they stood at the precipice of a great drop with the veilfire glowing in the darkness showing exactly how small of a ledge upon which they stood was. Across the way was a faint hint of a large corridor with tall, golden doors. From where they stood there appeared to be no way to get across to the other side.

“That is our way out. Possibly.” Solas said.

“Possibly?” she asked raising an eyebrow at him.

“Those roads once spanned for hundreds of miles that were used for trade and travel between Dwarven cities as well as to the surface. Now all that is left are these ruins. I'm amazed that they still stand. With any luck we'll find a way out.”

It appeared to be a long winding open hall with alleyways branching inwards eight doors or so down. What were once bridges and stairs made of great stone blocks were now crumbled and decayed from age. It could be a virtual maze if what he said was true. And how exactly did he expect them to get across to the other side? No, she thought. A lone rope ladder hung down the side directly across from where they stood. Looking down Rowan noticed the two wooden pegs and the other half of the rope ladder dangling near her feet into the precipice below them. He couldn't possibly serious.

She looked at Solas questioningly. “And how do you propose we get across?”

“We're cut off on this side from any of the bridges or I would repair one of those, so we will be using that rope ladder.”

“You do realize that ladder is broken?”

“One half lays there, and the other half lays here on this side. With Magic it can be repaired and we can cross the chasm,” he smiled. She was afraid he would say that. It wasn't that she was afraid of heights, but if these were ancient ruins as he claimed she had little room for optimism on the decrepit rope ladder, even if it hadn't already been broken.

“You're certain it can be done?” she asked.

“As certain as anything,” he smiled again, “Here, hold the veilfire and my staff,” he said handing her both items. With the raising of both his arms the two ladders lifted into the air. Rowan watched as he manipulated the ropes and mended them back together Magically. Then just as gently he lowered his arms so that the now repaired ladder hung perfectly from one side to the other. He looked at her proud of his handiwork.

“There, almost as good as new," he said taking back his staff and the veilfire. He motioned her forward onto the rope ladder. "Be mindful of the boards and don't let go of the ropes,” he warned her. “I'm not certain how strong the wood still is, though it appears to be sturdy enough.”

Slowly they crossed the rope ladder slowly making their way from one end of the cavern to the other. Rowan dared not to look down at the yawning void beneath her. The ladder swayed gently back and forth and some of the wooden slats were splintered and broken. The ropes were dry and brittle and creaking beneath her hands. The way was slow and she only hoped that the ladder would not give out from beneath them as it groaned beneath their footing.

“Once we get across all we have to do is find an unlocked door.” His voice echoed in the canyon beneath them.

“Why would the doors be locked?”

“The Dwarves were very protective of their treasures. Some may have been locked in the hopes that the Dwarves could barricade themselves off in the chaos that ripped the world apart. We can't be certain what we'll find down here.”

Finally they made it all the way across. Once they had completely stepped foot off of it the rope ladder fell apart again and could be heard slapping the edges of the cavern walls. She wondered if he had used Magic to make the bridge hold their weight and to keep it together? It seemed most likely. Several boards broke loose and fell into the pit below. It was a some time before she heard them hit the bottom finally.

They were facing the tall wall of stone that had been carved out of the cave walls. To the left were broken stone steps that once led downwards, and to the right was where all the doors that had been carved and gilded in gold were lined up. The walkway had crumbled over the ages so they had to step carefully so as not to fall in some areas. Solas took up the rear. In the advent that Rowan slipped he would be able to catch her.

Just before reaching the first door they could hear in the darkness behind them sound of claws gripping and scraping across stone. Something was making its way up the walls! Rowan turned and saw three large, red, scaly creatures effortlessly climbing up the stone wall of the canyon onto the walkway. They were about as large as they were. They screeched and hissed at Solas and Rowan, their forked tongues snaking out as if tasting them on the air.

“Dragonlings! Quickly we must get to safety!” he yelled to her. Where there were Dragonlings there was bound to be a Mother he knew. They could not be caught out in the open if She happened upon them. They would have no choice but to fend off the Dragonlings in the meantime and this was bound to bring about the ire of the Dragon Mother. The sooner they could make it to safety, the better.

Suddenly the whole cavern quaked and thundered at the sound of a mighty beast moving in the pitch black below. The force pitted her against the wall with a thud. A loud yet deeper shriek came from the pit below almost drowning out her hearing as it bounced off of everything and back again. Rocks started to fall from above, one coming precariously close to her head. If they didn't find safety soon they would certainly die from the mountain raining rocks down upon them. Solas put up a protective barrier around them. Anything that fell now would hit the barrier and bounce off while it stayed up.

“What was that?” she asked. Something about the sound filled her with anxiety and made her more alert. The three Dragonlings were drawing closer and Solas used his staff to push them back, crashing them against the wall far wall with an unseen force. Their cries made the creature in the darkness below bellow out a mighty roar. Suddenly she could hear the flapping of powerful wings.

“A Dragon!” Solas cried out. “Hurry, check the door!”

Rowan rushed to the door only to find that it wouldn't budge. She moved to the second door but it was firmly locked as well. She took a quick glance back and saw that Solas had felled one of the Dragonlings with ice and was fending off the other two while she was busy with the doors. The sound of wings now carried a gust a wind with each flap that lifted her hair when she was finally able to wrestle the third door open by throwing her weight onto it.

“Hurry,” he yelled to her. “Get inside and shut the door!”

"Not without you, Solas!" she cried out over the noise.

"Don't worry about me, I'll take care of the Dragon!"

“No! I won't let you fight alone!” She would not stand idly by and let him fight a Dragon and Her spawn alone. There was no telling how many more Dragonlings would be coming up the sides. He needed her. She grabbed his pack and tossed both of their possessions in the room along with the veilfire. They would have to fight in the darkness. Coming up behind him she took up a fighting stance, her staff flashing sparks of electricity in the darkness. If he was going to fight a Dragon then she would fight it with him.

“You have to trust me and do as I say. Get inside, shut the door and back away from it!” He began to push her into the open doorway. It was all too reminiscent of that day in the Garden with Mother.

“What about you? I can fight with you!” she screamed over the loud flapping of wings.

“I'll be fine, now hurry!” He could not let her see how he planned to finish off the Dragon. He would have to weaken it first, but he was not ready for her to see how it would end. The last thing he wanted was to trigger the wrong memory of him. Just as the Dragon crested the ridge Rowan was inside slamming the door shut with all her might. The last thing she saw was its mighty head with red scales and horns, and spitting fire in her direction and Solas standing in direct line of its path between it and her. The door shut just before the fire reached her and she backed away quickly as she felt an immense heat radiating off of it.

The Dragon had spotted Rowan escaping inside the room and Solas standing in front of her. It let out a blast of fire that he barely dodged just as the door behind him slammed shut. He had to keep his footing in mind as well, he reminded himself. The blast of the heat melted the door sealing it closed. Solas fought back against the Dragon unleashing frost spells to combat against it's flame as well as slowing it down, and lightning as his offensive attacks. He caught the Dragon in one wing with a bolt of lightning crippling it slightly as a hole was torn in its leathery wing. It was now semi-perched on the ledge and bellowing at him with that dizzying cry. It left him slightly disoriented for a moment, but he knew that meant the Dragon was getting desperate. It let out another burst of flame melting the entire corridor shut as Solas moved backwards fending off each burst with frost spells followed by chain lightning. He stepped just out of its reach with a spell when he knew his opponent was prime for what was to come next. He took a step backwards inside a hallway knowing that the Dragon would have an advantage now, but he couldn't let this passage be destroyed in the wake of their battle. Besides, the end was almost near. He knew it even if She did not. And he needn't worry about a second Dragon for they were fiercely territorial. Any mate She might have had She would have long driven off as soon as Her belly was swollen with eggs. She would not seek another mate until She needed to breed again.

“You should not have woken me, _Dread Wolf_ ," the Dragon Mother said in a deep voice.

“And you should not have begun a fight you were certain to lose, _Old One_.” Solas' eyes flashed a bright blue just as the Dragon was about to let loose another wave of fire his way and the once mighty and fierce beast was turned to stone in an instant.  _That_ was what Solas had not wanted Rowan to see, turning the Dragon to stone as he had done with the Qunari so long ago.

With one last spell from his staff he shattered its remains and ran down the hall passing several doors along the way as the earth rumbled once again. This time it was from the large chunks of stone that once was a Dragon tumbling down into the gulf below. He heard the shrieks of more Dragonlings below but they were of little concern to him now. He forced open a heavy door before anymore could make their way to him. He would have to find a passage that led back to Rowan. Luckily he was quite familiar with the how the Deep Roads operated and was able to steadily make his way from one room to another with efficient ease using his Amulet as a homing beacon.

Inside Rowan backed away from the door as far as she could as she had been instructed. She could see the golden frame melting from the flames from the Dragon. It was now sealed shut. There was no way she could get that door open again, she knew. She could hear the fighting, but it sounded more distant now that she was barricaded in. Whether it was due to the massive thickness of the door and walls, or whether or not the battle had moved on, she could not discern. Moments later the whole room shook and she almost lost her footing and then finally things went silent. The fight was over, she knew, and all she could do now was wait. Wait for Solas to find another way. There was another door in the back, but she dared not leave the room she was in for fear of getting lost or not knowing what she would find on the other side. No, it was best to stay put. He would find a way, she was certain. She spied a torch on the wall and used a similar spell that Solas had used to light their campfire with. It was a simple fire spell that came to her naturally.

The room lit up and offered better lighting as well as warmth where the veilfire had not. This she placed on the wall for Solas as she did not wish to waste water putting it out. He was alive, he had survived the battle, though she didn't know how she knew. It was just a certainty she had just as she had when she knew Mother had died. She fingered her Amulet and wondered if it had anything to do with it? Was it capable of telling her things she wished to know other than warning her of danger? It had told her the truth about Solas, she remembered that. She made a mental note to ask him about this strange Necklace of hers and whether or not he knew anything about it.

While she waited she took stock of her surroundings; there were chests of gems and jewels and fine jewelry, paintings leaned up against the walls with their images long faded by the ravages of time, dusty books piled up in a corner and on shelves, and a gilded mirror hung on one wall. Several pieces of ornate furniture also littered the room. There appeared to be some clothing of various sizes and types in a crate. They were old but still in usable condition. She moved to the bookshelf and tried to read the titles of the books but the language was foreign to her. She thumbed through them and it was the same inside. The jumble of words making no sense to her. It was written in a language she was not familiar with. She stumbled upon one tome that was completely blank. This she dusted off and set to the side on a nearby table. Suddenly Solas came through the other door, a little out of breathe, but otherwise unharmed. Even his clothing was unscathed. 

“Are you alright?” she asked him worriedly.

“Yes, thank you. I can't say the same for the Dragon, however,” he said shutting the door behind him.

“Where is it now?”

“Dead,” he said plainly. “A sad thing really, there are so few left in the world, but I was left with no other choice.” He still had a battle ready look in his eyes. He looked at the melted front entrance. “All the doors along the main corridor are melted shut as well, we'll have to-”

“I'm glad you're alright,” she said cutting him off hugging him. She had feared the worse but hadn't admitted it to herself until just now.

“I, well... thank you.” He was unsure how to respond so he simply hugged her back. Her concern for him threw him off guard. The hug, unexpected. Solas pulled away as casually as he could and looked around the room as an excuse for breaking away from her embrace. His head was swimming.

“Not much to be had in this room in the way of usefulness. Unless, perhaps, I can locate a map. We'll need to see if there is anything else in here we can use,” he said offhandedly. He looked at her dress; black velvet adorned with gilded, silver lacing along the edges that was cut way too low in the front his comfort suddenly. It hugged her frame accentuating her breasts and hips then gently flared out to her ankles. He wondered what Flemeth had been thinking when she chose the clothing she had for Rowan? He understood that she had been in a hurry but she had sent the woman on her way with the white dress she had been wearing, the black one she wore now, and a blue one that he was certain was just as revealing as this one. The one he had for her was even worse. He had collected it before leaving the Garden. It was the one she wore on their wedding day though he had not given it to her just yet. He was saving it for when she remembered... _if_ she remembered.

“Perhaps some more comfortable attire that can accommodate your fighting style as well as for traveling if we're lucky. If not then something we can use as trade when we find the nearest settlement.”

“I found some clothing in a crate over here. I'm afraid I'm not certain what would be useful and what wouldn't be,” she said suddenly conscious of his eyes roaming over her. She wanted to change out of this dress and into something that covered her better. Not that she minded it when he looked at her, but it still made her feel self-conscious. Solas himself was all too aware of her clothing as he had never seen her in dresses until she had left Skyhold, but even those were modest in comparison. She looked stunning, but it was a distraction he was unaccustomed to and could not afford.

“Good, I'll have a look and see what might fit you suitably well.” Solas went through the pile and pulled out a pair of brown leather pants and a green, wool tunic. They were meant for men, but she would at least be able to have better movement in battle if it became necessary. He dug around and found some matching brown leather boots that looked to be about her size.

“Here,” he said handing her the clothing, “Let us see if these will suit your needs.”

Rowan took the clothing and draped them over a chair. She would change, but not yet, not with him still in the room. It could wait a little longer.

“You mentioned trade. What about these?” she asked plucking a large green gem from one of the chests. "Surely these are valuable?"

“Ah, no,” he shook his head. “Those haven't been used as currency since the Great Calamity. If they are not enchanted they serve very little use to the people. They are nothing more than pretty baubles now.”

“But once they were?” she asked turning it over in her hand. Each facet was cut with the utmost accuracy. It glittered in the torchlight.

“Yes, everything you see here was once of great value and used for trade. Even the books were of great worth to scholars.”

“Even these silly looking things?” she asked plucking a jeweled mask out of another chest that was filled with several such funny face coverings.

“Ha, ha, yes. Even those silly looking things,” he chuckled. “The Humans loved their jewels.”

“But why these? Why would they cover their faces?” she asked perplexed.

“For a time it was the height of Human fashion for those that could afford them. It was a way of showing power and prestige. The more gems and Gold one owned, the more power and prestige one had. So they adopted the practice of wearing them everywhere; their shoes, those masks, their hats, all laden with jewels. The Humans did so love power and money to the point of greed.”

“I don't understand, how could all of this acquire power and prestige?” It made little sense to her. Certainly some of the items were pretty, but how could pretty things equate to power?

“The humans cared for little save titles and land. They assigned value to these gems and items. Everything from Gold to Emeralds were symbols of power and held great monetary value. These things could open doors of power for Humans that would otherwise be closed. The Dwarves were all too happy to mine them from the earth, craft them into these items, then traded them to the Humans. These baubles and even coins made of Gold could also be used as leverage in marriage arrangements. The more one had, the higher a price one fetched in establishing a well sought after marriage for a daughter.”

“Marriage arrangements? The Humans arranged their marriages? And these daughters had no say in the matter?” she asked truly bewildered at that concept.

“Marriage was the business of heritage and power. Noble families would arrange for their daughters to be married to men from other powerful houses, in doing so it would increase the power and landholdings of both sides.” he explained.

“You're saying they did not marry for love?” She was aghast at the concept of being forced to marry a man she did not know or love against her will. The whole notion sickened her.

“I image very few did, but for the most part no. Not in the realm of the powerful and the wealthy at least.” He took the mask from her hand, it was made of Gold and Rubies.

“If I were to marry it would be for love, not some silly business arrangement. I would not allow it,” she declared.

“I imagine you wouldn't. But were you Human,” he said as he plucked a matching ruby necklace from the other chest and draped it around her neck and slipped the bejeweled mask on her face, “and were to walk into a ballroom like this, the heads of every man would turn to compete for your affections; To win a smile, a dance, steal a kiss, or a marriage proposal. Duels have been fought over such women.”

She looked at herself in the mirror. She felt as silly looking as the mask itself was. She did not feel at all beautiful or powerful in it. The Rubies glittering red, her entire face covered in them, and the necklace was thick and heavy with many layers of the red gems.

“All of that fuss and without knowing what I really looked like beneath this mask? And were I not wearing such jewels they would pay me no mind at all? They cared not for the person themselves but more for what they could offer?” she asked still bewildered at the notion of it all.

“Sadly you are correct. The men were just as bad as well, not just the women. They, too, wore such things," he stated. "It is believed that their greed was one of the reasons the Humans were not spared by the Gods,” he stated.

"And what of the Dwarves?"

"For they caused great damage and pain to the mountains and the earth digging for such gems and other precious metals," he answered. But really it was the lyrium mining that had sealed their fate. Mining away at the very life force of the mountains. But how could he explain lyrium to her? He could not so he omitted it.

“And what of the Qunari?" she asked him "You said there were three races that were not spared; the Humans, the Dwarves, and the Qunari. Why were they not spared?”

“Ah, the Qunari. They were a warring race and left no room for free will or free thought amongst their own or those under the Qun. The Humans and the Qunari were constantly at war with one another, and as empires grew and wars spread the Elvhen people were pushed further and further away from the lands they once inhabited or were caught and put into slavery.”

“Slavery? That's detestable!” Her voice carried a heavy hint of disgust at the very thought of it.

“Indeed it is,” he agreed. “In the world we know today no Elvhen knows or has known slavery. Every Elvhen knows freedom; Freedoms that had once been long forgotten and taken from them.”

She removed the mask and necklace and tossed them back where they came from. Solas was right, leave them here to rot. She turned around and faced him. He had stepped close to her to put on the mask and necklace but since she had been staring in the mirror while they talked it wasn't apparent exactly how close they were until now. He suddenly became painfully aware of how very little distance separated them. If he were of the mind to he could easily kiss her, they were so close. As a matter of fact looking down into her face he was having a hard time resisting the urge.

“I would hope that a man would love me for who I am. I would never hide behind such trinkets such as these for the sake of marriage,”  She looked up at him while speaking.

“Nor would you need to. Were you to walk into a village right now every man would want to know you, and every woman would want to _be_ you.” He heard his thoughts slip out of his mouth before he could stop them. He couldn't have stopped himself if he wanted to. Something about being so close to her prevented him from being able to control what he said and did. It was almost as if she had him captured and spellbound. He always had valued her mind over everything else she had to offer, but now he was painfully aware of just how stunning she actually was.

“Why? What makes me so special?” she asked. It took her breath away when she locked eyes with him. She felt the tug every bit as much as he did.

 _Love..._  
_Need..._  
_Desire..._

They were both suddenly enraptured by these three emotions. 

“Do you really have to ask? You are so beautiful,” he proclaimed in a soft, sensual tone. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers and began stroking it, it was as soft as silk. “Your hair is like freshly fallen snow cascading down a mountain." He looked deep into her black eyes feeling almost dizzy, "and your eyes are as black as midnight; so dark a man could get lost in your gaze." He leaned in a little closer and continued while caressing her cheek with the back of his hand that once held her hair. She looked into his soft gray eyes longingly. "Your skin is flawless and as soft as a rose petal, and your lips,” he said breathlessly while slowly tilting her chin up, “they beg to be kissed.” He was trapped and he knew it but no longer cared. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly on the lips. All resolve he thought he had was now gone, he couldn't not kiss her. He shouldn't, he thought suddenly, then banished the thought just as quickly as he became lost in the tenderness of her lips and how they parted beneath his, granting his tongue access to her mouth. When she did that he was a man lost in the bliss of the moment, carried out to sea.

The hand that had tilted her chin was now buried in her hair and used to cradle her head back while he slid his other arm around the small of her waist. Gently he pulled her to him not caring if she could feel his now erect member against her. He didn't care about anything now except her and bringing her pleasure. The world did not exist outside of this kiss for either of them. His kiss became hungrier as the sweet taste of her mouth filled his and again, the sweet scent of lilacs made his nostrils flair. He was all desire now. Hungry for her, and she hungry for him.

She offered no resistance. She had long wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him and gave way further into his embrace. She could feel his hand in her hair on the back of her head, holding her as if she might escape him. But there was no escaping this, she longed for it too much. The gentle pressure of his other hand on the small of her back pulling her to him was almost too much to bear. Her skin was aflame with desire, her chest heaved against his. She inhaled sharply with each slightly painful yet pleasurable nipping of teeth that now scraped her lower lip.

 _Love..._  
_Need..._  
_Desire..._

The waves of these emotions rocked them both like water crashing on a shoreline again and again. He kissed her like she was his life line, for at that moment that was what she had become. He could not think outside her, exist outside her, there was nothing outside of her. He crushed her lips with his tasting her deeply now, his free hand roaming down from the small of her waist to her backside, pressing her body further into him. Then he completely enveloped her in his arms. Oh how he wanted to just tear her dress away and make love to her right where they stood. He found himself grazing her left earlobe with his teeth and he heard her sharp intake of breath as he nipped at the side of her neck and felt the gentle swell of her breasts pressed against his chest. With one free hand he slowly slid his way along her arm and over to her right breast, cupping it in his hand while his thumb caressed her nipple beneath the velvety fabric.

 _Love..._  
_Need..._  
_Desire..._

Again the wave hit her and was amplified by his caresses. She moaned beneath his touch and arched her back, pushing her breast into his hand demanding more attention as her nipple hardened beneath his thumb. His lips were back on her neck and she could feel him alternating between sweet kisses and the nipping of teeth against her skin. She pressed her body further into him feeling his arousal between her legs. She was just as lost in this moment as he was and began to move her hips against him slowly, her sex against his member, this time eliciting a moan from him. She wanted this, needed this. Needed to feel all of him against her, inside her. He was gentle yet he controlled her very being with his mouth and his fingers. Her skin was ablaze from his kisses and the pressure of his hand on her breast, rubbing her nipple into supplication. Her breath quickened as she felt his thumb begin to gently caress the edges of her dress then slid his hand beneath its hem and cupped her naked breast in it. He pinched her nipple just hard enough to emit a cry of passion from her lips before he claimed her mouth with his, drowning out her cries. Feeling her body moving against him, her sex ever so softly against his, made him all the more lustful. The feel of her skin against his hand, the taste of her flesh in his mouth when he kissed her neck, the taste of her lips and mouth and the feeling of her pressed against him? It was more than he could bear. The world outside her had ceased to exist.

They were lost, lost inside this moment that seemed to go on for an eternity. He grabbed her by the waist with one hand, pulling her harder onto his erection meeting her hips with a thrust. The warmth of her against him was driving him over the edge as he continued to slowly thrust against her. If he wasn't careful he would spill his seed and he wasn't ready for that. Slowly he pulled away to give himself enough room to slip his free hand between them and caressed her mound beneath the velvet lining of her dress. He felt her begin to grind into his hand in pleasure. He wished nothing more than for them to be free of their clothing so he could feel her sex free of fabric. Just her warm, soft flesh in his palm. He turned his attention back to her neck as she continued to push her sex against his hand while he rubbed it somewhat roughly. She held onto his shoulders for purchase. His other hand was still beneath her dress caressing her bare breast and pinching her nipple now and then. She groaned loudly and bore down harder as her climax crested her over the precipice. She threw back her head riding the wave of pleasure against his hand that shook her entire body, the warmth spreading throughout her entire being. She wrapped her arms around his neck for support as her knees threatened to give out. Still, she wanted more, needed more. It did nothing to satisfy her, just the opposite, it fueled her desire so she kept pushing her sex into his hand. He knew she had an orgasm, and when she did he bit down on the nape of her neck. She was his. His love, his Rowan. She belonged to him again, and he belonged to her.

 _Love..._  
_Need..._  
_Desire..._

Her one hand was now on his erection igniting him further as she rubbed and squeezed his length while simultaneously riding the palm of his hand. She wanted to offer him the same pleasure he had brought her. Now it was his turn to thrust into her hand. He was on the verge of stripping her bare and taking her. He could feel it. She continued her ministrations on his member as he continued to bite harder on her neck. He was marking her, but at that moment he didn't care. He cared about nothing save the two of them. And she was his... He moved his hands to her dress and began to hike it up around her waist. He grabbed one leg and wrapped it around him as he moved in closer. Nothing separated them now except his trousers and her small clothes. His erection was now pressed against her barely covered sex and it drove her wild. His hands were on her bare ass, one supporting her and the other just about to slide off her panties and undo the front of his trousers when he heard his name.

"Oh Solas," she moaned. Hearing his name brought him back to his senses somehow. Just as suddenly as it had begun it was over. He broke away from her shaking his head as if shaking off a dream while quickly sliding his hands away from her body, releasing her leg. He struggled to let go but fought it off. He knew he had gone too far, allowed both of them to go too far. The worst part was knowing that had she not spoken he would have gone all the way. He couldn't allow that.

This was not right. This was what he wanted, what he knew she wanted as well, but there was something wrong and it was nagging at him but he still couldn't think straight. He slowly backed away from her trying to clear his mind from his lust for her. _Do nothing to interfere_ , echoed through his brain but it didn't help. She was looking at him confused, hair disheveled and her dress a mess. He searched her face for what he needed; a clue, any hint of recognition, a memory of him. All he saw was confusion mingled with lingering passion. Had they continued any longer he would have pinned her to the wall and taken her where she had stood, and there would have been no turning back once he was inside her. He pushed the image out of his mind lest he lose himself again. Her eyes were still glazed with desire; he had emblazoned her and she would have allowed him anything. But it was wrong, very wrong.

 _Love..._  
_Need..._  
_Desire..._

It still emanated from them both and he had to back away still shaking his head before he lost himself in her again.

"Solas?" she asked confused. What had happened? She didn't understand.

'I... apologize. I shouldn't have. It was wrong and I should not have done it. Forgive me.” He was still reeling from the kiss, the taste of her skin, the feel of her breast in his hand, her hand on him, her sex in his. Though they had only made love once it had not been like this. Not with such overwhelming intensity. Yes, something was wrong. Something else was happening and his mind was too cloudy to put his finger on it. He still smelled the lilacs from her skin on him and shook his head again. It would be all too easy to give in to temptation but he had to fight it.

“It doesn't feel wrong,” she said in a heavy breath. “Nothing else has felt more right than that, Solas.” She was confused and slowly was coming down from her heightened state of arousal. Did he not desire her? She knew he did, what just transpired between them made it obvious. And the feeling was mutual. So how could it be wrong?

“You don't understand.” He continued to back away from her putting distance between them. _What had he done_ , he wondered? He could have ruined everything. How could he have been so careless?

“Then help me understand.” She said taking a step forward. For every step forward she took, he took one back his hands up and shaking his head. Why did he act as though he feared her so suddenly? Feared being near her? It only served to confound her more.

“I was told, _warned_... Flemeth said not to do anything that might interfere with you retrieving your memories. She warned me against this very kind of thing.” he said breathlessly, he was fighting the urge to give in to her again.

“Just how was what we were doing a threat to my memories?” she asked stopping her advance.

“I'm... not certain, but it could lead to trouble. I want to give in, but it isn't right. Not until you remember. I _need_ you to remember,” he said in an almost pleading tone.

“Remember what, exactly?”

“I need you to remember... _everything_.” There was a slight hint of hesitation on the word " _everything_ " as if he had almost meant to say something else.

 _I need you to remember us_ , he thought. That was the truth of it. He needed her to remember him, _them_ , who they were and what they were to each other. And until that time came this wasn't fair to her or to him. Neither of them could hope to gain anything from this.

“What were we to one another, Solas? Was there something between us?” she inquired almost demandingly. “There was, wasn't there?” She was certain that there had been something between them, she could feel it and it was written on his face though he tried to hide it. She recalled when he tried to tell her something about herself and her amnesia blocked it out. Had it been about them?

“I can not say” He wondered if they were always slotted to fall in love? He had never stopped loving her, but she barely knew him yet could plainly see her love for him. Or did part of her remember the love they had for one another? Yet he could not tell her what she wanted to hear no matter how much he wanted to. Her amnesia prevented it.

“Can not or _will not?_ ” she asked him with a note of disdain in her voice.

 _Confusion..._  
_Remorse..._  
_Frustration..._

Again the emotions crashed through them both, one feeding off of the other. Absentmindedly she grasped her Amulet as if part of her knew that it was the source of these waves.

“I can not... Please, I beg you,” he pleaded with her as if she knew what he really meant. “Don't ask me again." He looked around the room as a form of distraction. "I should... look around. See what I can find... A map perhaps.” He spied the clothing he had found for her draped over a chair. “I'll check the adjacent room for something useful so you can have some privacy to...  change.” He was stammering now and knew it. “Once we leave I'll close up the exit so no one else may find this place. What once was should remain here. Take nothing else that could be misconstrued as foreign,” he cautioned her.

Solas went into the other room, a Vault, and closed the door behind him. Finally he could think more clearly. There was something about her now that was inherently different. Was it the mark of the Garden's affect on her? The Goddess worship that had been bestowed upon her for a thousand years? That was similar to how the Evanuris had become so powerful and came to be known as Gods. He loved her, but his love seemed to amplify uncontrollably whenever he was too near her and so did his desire for her; to have her, to just take her. He couldn't, and even if he could he wanted her, no _needed_ her, to understand that he loved her. And not only that he loved her but for more than her body or her face, but for her mind and personality. With each close encounter she became more difficult to resist. This escapade made it abundantly clear to him that something was vastly different. Even the first time they made love he was still able to maintain his wits and control over himself, but not now. Had she not spoken would he have taken her? He knew the answer was yes. And what, if any, ramifications would it have on her ability to regain her memories?

The Garden... That must be it; The Garden's Magic had left its imprint on her. If that were the case then how would she affect others that came into contact with her? He wondered if it was actually wise to expose her to other Elvhen? He couldn't keep her away, not without raising suspicion, but now he knew that he had to be prepared for anything, and that he had to be more mindful around her. The mixture of veneration and Mythal's god-hood had profoundly and inexplicably changed her very core. She was still Rowan, but she was more than just that now. He remembered the heated cave room when she had become angered. What other powers did she possess, he wondered?

 _Fledgling Goddess_... he thought. _Was Rowan now truly Rowhanna?_

Rowan was still confused by the encounter. Everything happened so suddenly, and then he had retreated from her as if it were dangerous to be near her. It frustrated her but she knew she would get no answers from him so she focused on changing her clothes and trying to calm her body and cooling her senses in the process. She was still reeling from her orgasm and from his reaction to her. She needed to cool her head and get dressed and try to not think anymore about it.

She changed out of her crumpled dress and into the clothing he had provided then braided and pinned up her hair with Mother's Dragon comb. The pants were a snug fit, but offered great mobility. The tunic was a bit tight when she laced up the front, but would show too much if she didn't. After what just transpired she opted for lacing it up tightly hoping it was the better of the two options. It also offered warmth so she would not need her cloak. The boots fit perfectly and she was almost finished with buckling them up when Solas returned. She thought about packing up her dress but decided she'd much rather leave it behind. She didn't foresee needing it half as much as she would need the space in her pack. She left the empty tome she had found sitting out so that he may inspect it. She did not want to take it without his permission based on what she had learned and the warning he had given.

“I see that the clothing fits you perfectly. Very good. It suits you well.” She couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation. He seemed to have returned to his once normal self but she wasn't certain about that either. He was so hard to read sometimes. He avoided eye contact with her for a few minutes. The clothing did fit her well, he thought, but it was no better than the revealing dress. Now he could very easily make out her hips and backside, and her breasts pushed against the fabric of the tunic. Perhaps he should have chosen something looser? He shook the thoughts that threatened to creep into his mind away. He concluded that his difficulties were one part real and one part this peculiar new effect she had on him. And the mark on her neck, he wondered if she had noticed it? He would have to do something about that, he reminded himself. She had braided her hair and pinned it up with the comb Flemeth had given her. He hoped she hadn't used the mirror and noticed the bite. No, he thought, she would have kept it covered if she had.

He remained focused on laying two pieces of parchment out on a nearby table that he had discovered in a vault in the other room. One was a map of the Deep Roads, another an overlay of the surface.

“I found this as well,” she said handing him the book. “Is this acceptable for me to keep?”

He turned the book over and thumbed through the pages, they were all blank and there weren't any unusual markings on it that would be a telltale sign of it being an oddity. “An empty book? I see no harm in that. Might I ask why, however?”

“It's for my dreams, the nightmares. I thought that if perhaps I drew them it might help make them less frightening,” she said sheepishly. “It's silly, I know. I don't even know if I can draw, but I thought it would help me.” She didn't know how to act around him now, so she just kept her gaze averted for the time being. It was obvious that he didn't realize to the full extent the impact he had on her from the moment she laid eyes on him in the woods. She had felt an unexplainable pull towards him that she herself didn't understand.

“I think that's an excellent idea,” he said handing her back the book then motioning her over to the table. Their proximity was risky but he was certain he could handle her being close to him as long as he remained focused on the task at hand. Little did she know that he had also cast a spell to remove the bite mark from her neck when he motioned her over. It would not do well for her to have that. Nor him, he thought.

“Here look, I found a map that leads the way out,” he said as casually as he could.

She cautiously moved to his side uncertain how he would react to her. He had had rolled the parchment out and was pointing to a spot with his finger. “According to this we are here.” He traced a series of intersecting lines with a piece of charcoal and continued, “If we travel along this route we can reach the surface here,” he said circling a marked location. Then he unrolled another map. This one appeared to have markings of hills and trees on it. He pointed to a location on the second map, “That would put us here, a two days hike away from Lithranil, an Elvhen settlement. We'll be able to stay there long enough to stock up on any supplies we need, acquire transportation, then be able to head to Tarasyl'an Te'las.”

“What if I don't want to Tarasyl'an Te'las?” she asked suddenly. She had an idea, she didn't know if it would work but she'd much rather try it than not.

“Why wouldn't you?” Her question caught him off guard. He wondered what had brought this on? Was she angered with him?

“Think about it for a moment," she said. "You're a Mage, a powerful one at that. You took down a Dragon by yourself! You're more powerful than even Mother was. You've fought off The Others and have survived. Perhaps you can break the spell so I don't have to travel all the way to Skyhold?” she said excitedly. If he could break this spell for her then they wouldn't need to go through with all this traveling. Then she could remember whatever it is that is so important for her to remember, especially the one that seemed most important to him.

“Rowan, I do not have the power to undo this spell. If I had thought for a single moment that I were capable of such a feat I would have done so already.” He paused for a moment. Something she said gnawed at him. Then it hit him. She had said the name _Skyhold_. “What was it that you said again?”

“What?”

“You said 'Skyhold'.” Had she read that somewhere when he was not in the room? He glanced on the map, it wasn't marked as “Skyhold” on the map either. Where could she possibly have gotten that name?

“'Tarasyl'an Te'las' means ' _the place where the sky is kept_ '... hence Skyhold. Why?” She didn't understand what he was so excited about.

“How did you come to know that name?” he asked her with a look of curiosity on his face.

“I... don't know. It just... came to me. Suddenly I just _knew_.”

“Do you not realize what this means? You remembered something...” His excitement grew but he hid it from her. Had their encounter caused her to recall Skyhold? Did it spark at least _one_ memory for her? It was a foolish notion, he knew, but he had to hope that others would come to her if this one had.

“Do you remember anything about Skyhold?” he asked her eagerly. “For example, what does it look like? Anything else at all?”

“I don't understand, Solas. I just knew what the name meant.” Suddenly what he said hit her; she _had_ remembered something! She hadn't needed to force it or think about it, it had just come to her. She rolled the name over in her head trying to see if any images or names or anything else would come to her but there was nothing. Just the knowing that Tarasyl'an Te'las meant "Skyhold” and that Skyhold was what she was used to calling it, not the other way around. Then it dawned on her why going to Skyhold was so important... She used to live there.

“Wait, there is one other thing. I used to live at Skyhold, didn't I?” She knew it with a certainty she couldn't explain. "It was my home once. That is why Mother insisted that I return there. I remember that now. I can't recall what it looks like, but I know that it was once my home." This made him hopeful; Hopeful that perhaps she would remember more along the way given enough time.

Rowan was just as hopeful as he was. She so desperately wanted to remember everything now. Now she had a personal reason, not just the reason of some vague prophecy that may or may not take place. One in which her role was uncertain. But if it meant that she and Solas could be together, then that was all the motivation she needed. It was all she wanted at this moment in her life was to be with him.

"Yes you did use to live there," he said grinning. Then he handed her the piece of charcoal he had used on the map, “Here, so you may draw in your book.”


	13. A Strange, Young Man

It took several days longer than expected but Solas and Rowan made their way through the Deep Roads without too many incidents. Some areas of the route had been blocked off by debris and they would have to redirect their path on the map, locked doors they used Magic to open when necessary. They ran into the occasional pack of deepstalkers or giant spiders here and there, but it wasn't anything that between the two of them they couldn't handle. Other than that they way was fairly uneventful and Solas was glad for the occasional fight with the creatures they stumbled upon in order to refine Rowan's use of her abilities. Additionally Rowan's fear of the unknown seemed to retreat quickly with each fight and the woman he remembered began to emerge; confident, courageous, fierce, and completely in control of herself and whatever situation they found themselves in. He was proud of her and it showed.

They would make camp at night in whatever offshoot room they could find barricading themselves in for safety. At least what they thought was night. Without the sky to tell time they relied solely on when their bodies told them it was time to eat and rest. They both avoided close contact with each other whenever possible; Solas out of fear of losing control with her again and for Rowan it was her lingering sense of shame at her unabashed wantonness she had displayed with him.

Rowan also began turning down his offers of herbals teas at night even though it would prevent the nightmares from occurring. Not that she wanted to suffer them, but part of her felt they were important somehow. She would awake the next morning to scribble sketches of the people and creatures she saw or phrases she could recall. She had yet to share any of her pictures with Solas. Often she would wake up crying or shouting but she still turned down his offers and would stay awake the rest of the night drawing or thinking. She didn't seem to need much sleep and besides, she had become obsessed with drawing or notating everything she could as if they were a puzzle that would help her unlock the very foundation of who she really was somehow. Plus she enjoyed drawing she discovered.

Eventually the nightmares shifted to something different. She would find herself suddenly outside of the nightmare and watching it like a spectator with that strange, young man from before. When this happened he was always there, and they were always watching and talking, but she could never remember what they talked about upon waking. It frustrated her to no end as she began drawing him in her book but could only capture little details here and there with each dream. Whatever they talked about she couldn't recall a word of. She kept this to herself. Occasionally she would ask questions describing some of the creatures she saw but that was the extent of it, but never once did she tell him about the strange man in her dreams.

Solas worried for her but she was adamant against taking anything so he didn't pressure her. He would make the same offer each time and when refused let the matter drop. He would try to comfort her the best he could through conversation when she would open up to him about her dreams, though he really wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her tight when she awoke in such fretful states. It wasn't that he wanted to push her away, it was more that he was all too aware of the potential danger being in close vicinity to her could be for them both. The one time he had rushed to her side and put his arms around her his desire to make her feel safe was almost overrun with the desire to kiss away her tears. It was something he would have wanted to do naturally, for she was still his love, but he found it difficult to refrain from doing so and he knew very well where it could lead from there. He had to literally tear himself away from her that night and retreat to the other side of the room and pretend at shuffling through his pack for something to offer her to drink though he knew she would refuse. He convinced himself it was best to stay away and take on the role as companion and friend though it pained him to do so.

When he pressed her about her dreams she was vague on details. She asked more questions than she gave answers, but that had always been the way with her. Her curiosity and quest for understanding the unknown had been one of her qualities he had fallen in love with, and he was all too happy to answer when he could. Whether or not she was being vague on purpose he wasn't certain. He would simply wake to find her scratching away in her book in the middle of the night on the times her nightmares didn't wake him.

She had long gone through the first piece of charcoal he had given her so he made a point of collecting more as well as an inkwell and quill he found in one of their rooms that he felt reasonably safe for her to keep. He was grateful she had not shared her pictures with him, despite his curiosity. Some of what she dreamed he knew he couldn't explain to her even though he'd want to. And some of it was best left in her book. How could he explain to her that some of the things she dreamed of this world had never known? He didn't have to be told that she dreamed of some of their old companions; HUMAN companions.

After almost a week of winding through the Deep Roads they finally found a crevice on the side of a wall that could be used as an exit point. With the help of some magical manipulation they were able to make their way out of it. They had to climb up and out and it had been blocked off by a large, fallen tree. They had emerged to find themselves on the side of a tall hill near the forest that they would have to travel through. The location of this passage had taken them a few days off course, but Lithranil was still the closest settlement they could get to and the best one for trade. He still had to wonder what effect, if any, she would have on the other Elves? It was hard to tell so he would have to ensure that they could leave in a hurry if need be.

He had gathered some empty pieces of parchment for writing, scraps of delicate fabrics and ribbons in which to sew, just little things he could get away with trading without raising too much suspicion. He even found a few crystals he was easily able to enchant without causing too much of a stir. It wasn't that the Elves did not know the partial history of the world, or that old ruins hadn't been stumbled on before, but items from them were regarded with superstition so he tried to make certain what he brought with them would not raise any questions.

They were now camping deep within the plush, green forest settling down for the evening during their third night out. They would reach Lithranil by the next morning at this rate. Rowan had taken to sitting in whatever tree was nearest to camp in the evenings after their meal. It was the evenings, she found, that she needed the most distance from him and besides that she quite enjoyed the freedom of being high up in a tree. She hadn't even known she could climb them so easily and dance from limb to limb so effortlessly. She sat in one such tree now. She wasn't drawing in her book just yet, instead she was running her finger over the gem in her necklace wondering about it and its nature. She wondered what, if anything, he could tell her about it.

“Solas, what can you tell me about my necklace?” she asked as she sat looking down on him. This was a habit she had taken to since they left the Deep Roads he noticed; climbing the nearest tree after dinner before sleep and pegging him with questions or drawing or both. Some of her questions he could answer, others he could not.

“I will answer as best I can,” he said. “Whatever would you like to know?”

“You can't tell me where I got it, can you?” She had been wondering who would bestow such a spectacular yet confounding item to her?

“No, I can not.” He could not tell her that he himself had given it to her all those years ago. He waited for her next question as she was never satisfied with just one. She never had been. Not in the past and certainly not now. Always the curious mind was hers. Yes, his Rowan was still there shimmering beneath the surface of her amnesia. Her old personality shined through more and more with each passing day. This along with her remembering the name Skyhold made him ever the more hopeful.

“What is it made from? It seems to be fashioned from some form of bone,” she stated.

“Ah yes that. It is made from Dragon bone.” A Dragon in which she herself had slain, her very first in fact. Why he had kept a piece of it back then he never quite understood. Had he always planned to fashion that necklace for her, he wondered? Or had it been pride, pride that his love had stood in the face of a High Dragon unafraid and struck the killing blow?

“Dragon bone... You had said when you slayed that one Dragon that they were rare. Odd that someone would craft a necklace out of such a rare creature then." She reflected on this for a moment. Had someone killed a Dragon for her, or had they perhaps stumbled upon the remnants of an already dead Dragon and then fashioned the necklace? And why a Dragon specifically? These were questions she was certain she would not get an answer from him on so she moved onto something else about the necklace that had puzzled her. "You said gems were only of value if they were enchanted and it appears as if mine is,” she continued. “What type of gem is it and what type of enchantment? Do you know or can you tell me?”

“Yours is a rare gem indeed. There is no name for it that I can tell you save that only one other of its kind ever existed.” His half, he thought. “As to its true nature I can not say, but if there are other specifics I might be able to answer I will.” No he could not say. He could not tell her it was a binding gem that bound them to one another through their love and a Magical union of an ancient Elvhen origin.

“Well I know that it warns me of danger, I've felt that much when The Others were coming both in the Garden and again when we first met. I know that it can tell me the truth of some things, for example when we first met it told me that you spoke the truth about who you were. What else can you tell me?” she asked. It was much easier this way she found then asking questions just to be told he could not answer them.

What else could he tell her indeed, he wondered? He thought carefully before answering.

“Ah yes, what else? Well I can tell you that it is bound to you. And it responds to what you need from it in certain ways, exactly which ways are a mystery due to its rareness. Not much is known about what it can or can not do,” he replied hoping it was a sufficient enough answer. “I can also tell you that it works for you and you alone, and that only you can remove it. It will not break and it cannot be stolen from off of you.”

“Sometimes I get... _feelings_ from it. Emotions. Where do they come from?” she asked. Yes, sometimes she would feel things and would get confused as to their source. Were they her feelings or was it picking up feelings from others as well, such as Solas? Was that even possible?

“It is an amplification of your own emotions.” It wasn't the whole truth, but enough to not be an outright lie. He could not tell her that it also reflected his emotions onto her. He had been very careful to tuck away any strong emotions for the time being to prevent her from picking up on them.

“Odd,” she remarked. “Why would I need to know what I'm feeling?” she asked. “And sometimes it doesn't feel like they are mine at all.” No, there were times when it felt like she was picking up on something else that was not entirely hers. Akin to an echo from someone else. Sometimes she wondered if it was indeed Solas, but then would cast the thought away as silliness and wishful thinking. Someone else then? Or where they deeper emotions of hers that the necklace amplified that she would have otherwise ignored or been blissfully unaware? She mused over this for a bit. There were things she knew he wasn't telling her, that much she could tell, but she had since learned not to press him further over such things so she changed the subject.

“When we first met, you said you were impressed. Impressed by what, exactly? The battle with the wolves or the halla?” she asked. Yes, their first encounter when she had fought off the shadow-wolves and healed the silver halla. The memory had just come to her and the fact that she had been meaning to ask for quite some time. She tried to recall the name of what a silver halla would be called... Hanal'ghilan? No, that was a _golden_   halla. Soleth'assan? No, that wasn't quite right either. She couldn't remember. Maybe she had never known?

“Both actually,” he replied bringing her back to the subject at hand. “To be more specific? It was the interaction between you and the halla. A halla such as that; attacked, wounded, and with child? She would never trust a stranger as she had you.” He recalled how the halla had allowed her to cradle its head in her lap, her one hand on its wound, her eyes closed and humming a tune he had never heard as if it were a lullaby. How it had nuzzled her neck in thanks when she was done as if they had bonded in that moment. A rare sight indeed.

“She wouldn't have trusted me even though I saved her?” Rowan asked surprised. She had thought that was exactly why the halla trusted her. She was beginning to see why he might have been impressed though she suspected it took a lot more than just that to impress someone like him.

“Not even then. And the way you healed her? I have not seen Magic like that in such a long time and very few can master it. But not like you. You completely healed her of the venom from the wolves with your hands and a song. I have seen Magic do many things but you, you had lost all your memories yet so efficiently cured what is almost inherently incurable! Even I can not do that.”

It was a song that he could still hear in the back of his mind when he laid down at night and thought back on it. He wondered where she had learned it from, what was its origins? Was it a remnant of her past or something entirely new? And was it the song that healed the halla or was it all Rowan herself? That couldn't have come from the Garden, the Garden was for love not healing. It made him all the more curious to know how exactly she had been changed. He reminded himself to test her abilities later. They would both need to know how powerful she was, if that were even possible.

She turned the pages of her book and looked at a word she had jotted down on one page, it was the page that she had been drawing Solas in. She had written it in a handwriting that was not her own unlike everything else in her book. It was a word she had heard in a dream which she could barely remember save that one word. It had been a hazy dream of Solas and her, something she had opted not to draw. What little she could remember of it made her blush upon waking, but there was that one word and it had been “Vhenan.” Every time she read that word she could hear him saying it in her head. Just like from in the dream.

“The word ' _vhenan_ ' it means ' _my heart_ ' doesn't it?” she asked him trying to sound as casual as possible. For the first time she was happy to be hidden from his sight high up in her perch in the tree.

“Yes it does, why?” he asked just as casually. Had he called her that when they were kissing? He couldn't recall. A lot of what happened that night was painfully etched into his memories and some of it was just as painfully fuzzy. The effects of her growing powers, he thought.

“It was just something... something I heard in a dream once but I can't remember who it was that said it. That is all,” she lied. She hated lying to him and she knew he was aware of her tells, but she would prefer the lie to the truth.

Had she been dreaming of them, he wondered? Their time at Skyhold? Their Fade kiss or the one on the balcony? Hopefully not the one from the Crossroads when he was forced to remove her arm in order to remove the Anchor, he thought. And he hoped beyond all hopes it wasn't from the one time they made love in the Garden so long ago.

“Have you ever loved someone before, Solas?” she asked him abruptly. Again she had changed subjects and he felt caught off guard by this one. He was painfully aware of her ability to sit perched in her tree and freely able to look down on him while the fire from camp blocked his view of her. How to answer her question now without avoiding it or triggering her amnesia?

“I have grown to love many people and spirits in my lifetime,” he answered plainly.

“Spirits? You loved spirits as well?” she asked in the same amazed tone as she had back in Haven.

“Yes, I have made fast friends with many spirits,” he answered grinning.

“That is fascinating! But no, I mean as in have you ever _been_ in love?” she asked pointedly.

“I... yes.” His tone had shifted suddenly. Soft and with that hint of sadness she had grown accustomed to hearing. “I had fallen in love with a woman once, a very long time ago.” This was a truth he could tell her, he just hoped she didn't press him with questions he could not or would not want to answer. He could not tell her it was her he loved, and he didn't want to admit to still being in love either. Admitting such a thing would do worse than complicate matters further.

“What was she like?” Ah, this he could answer, and truthfully.

“She was brave, compassionate, curious, wise, and brilliant. A natural leader in her own rights,” he answered describing everything about her he loved the most. He could go on all night but left it at that.

“Was she beautiful as well?” Rowan wondered if she, herself, held any of these qualities or did he love her for different reasons? Rowan may be naive in some regards but she knew enough to realize that he desired her and had some feelings for her, if not love then something close to it. She wondered how she compared up against this woman that Solas had loved? She felt almost jealous of this other woman.

“Yes, she was. Very beautiful. She was beautiful within and without.” He hoped she would change the subject and soon. It was beginning to make him uncomfortable talking about her as if he was describing someone else.

“What happened?” she asked him. Ah, there it was. The painful question he had been dreading.

“I... lost her.” He said softly. In a way it was not a lie. He had lost Rowan, to her own mind. For now at least.

“What happened?” Her curiosity was getting the better of her. He rarely ever talked about himself so plainly. Where he was from, who taught him Magic, these things he had answered so vaguely. “A small village far from here,” or “I taught myself” or even “I learned this or that through the help of spirits” would be all he would offer. Now that he was somewhat willing to discuss something about himself she pressed him for more.

“She became very ill...” he said trailing off. “I would prefer not to think about it please.” He couldn't have hidden the note of deep anguish if he wanted to.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried.” Was that why he was so reluctant with her? His lost love? She had noticed the difference in how he treated her with caution since that one night. Perhaps that was it? No, something was off about his answers. He wasn't lying, but something else resonated in her that there was more to it than just that. Yet she decided to let the matter go. And there it was again, feelings she was certain were his not hers, and she wondered about that.

“No, it's alright... It wasn't your fault and it was a very long time ago,” Yet the pain seemed fresh on his face. His pain now mirrored hers for having brought up such a delicate memory for him. She wondered then if anyone had ever loved her or had she herself ever been in love? The only love she knew right now was her ever growing love for him that continued to blossom with each passing day despite the physical distance they maintained with one another.

Now she needed to change the subject to take both their minds off the conversation that just took place. She turned to something he had told her he would do, but they had been too busy pretending to ignore one another that both of them had forgotten about the topic of Magic. He had promised to teach her how to make veilfire. “Solas, will you teach me how to make veilfire?”

“Yes," he replied grateful for the distraction. "It is a simple enough trick. Come down to the campfire and I'll show you. We should also fine tune your skills without the use of your staff and test your abilities,” he said. Yes he would have to test her to see what she was capable of.

She leapt out of the tree and deftly landed on her feet, book still in hand. It felt natural to her, being in a tree. Comforting even. She seemed to have taken to climbing them and coming down from them with efficient ease. She figured this was something she must have done often in the past. Plus she enjoyed not the distance from him, but the ability to look down at him from afar while she worked on the image of him in her book knowing that he could only see little of her while she studied his features. She still couldn't shake him from her head no matter how she tried. Nor from her dreams, either. Again they were dreams she didn't dare to draw and was glad she could only remember snippets of.

She strode over to the campfire as casually as she could and took a seat opposite of him on the ground with her back to the fire. While she had been sitting in a tree, he had sat on the ground leaned up against one. Both of them had seemed to be in their natural states that way, she noticed. This was the closest they had been to each other since that one night well over a week ago so she tried to remain focused on what he taught her instead.

He showed her the art of creating veilfire, something she already inherently knew from her past, so it came to her easily. He then put her other talents to the test wanting her to master what she could without her staff. He had her create a ball of flame in the palm of her hand, put out the fire with frost, create an electrical charge between both palms. He had her create water in an empty water-skin, something he knew she had been unable to do before as it was out of her element. She did so with effective ease. She even made a slight rain come down through the trees without warning laughing as she did so in delight at his surprise at getting wet suddenly. It was a harmless prank but he looked at her with a faked scowl that made her laugh all the harder.

Each task he set her to she mastered faster than any other Mage would have in their first year of training whether with a Keeper or in a Circle. Some things, he reminded himself, were already a part of her repertoire. He was merely a catalyst in which to realize she was capable of performing them. She had even levitated a large rock with her hand then crushed it to pebbles with the closing of her fist. He tested her speed by magically seizing her book and she snatched it away in mid air before it reached his hands with the flick of her wrist and then caused his hand to burn ever so slightly as a warning but with a playful smile. Her reaction time was amazing as well. She had far exceeded herself from the Mage she had once been and he was quite proud of her. She was capable of utilizing the fade around her to do things that he himself never thought she would be able to. She was an eager and capable student. He wanted to truly test her abilities but they were in too confined of an area for that.

Healing they should attempt, he thought, so he drew a dagger from his pack and before she knew what was happening he slashed open the palm of his hand. Blood began to drip from the wound as she stared at it astounded by what he had done.

“Heal me,” he said flatly. She tried to think of a healing spell but nothing came to her.

“Heal me,” he said again this time in a more demanding tone.

Nothing came to her so she tried putting her hands out and directing a wave of Magic towards him and thought “Heal” in her mind. Again nothing happened. She tried saying it aloud, as before nothing happened. He was bleeding profusely and she was getting worried. The tune from when she was with the halla came back to her and she took his hand in both of hers, closed her eyes and began humming the tune. A moment later she felt him slide his hand out of hers and she opened her eyes. The wound was gone and he was cleaning it off.

“Very well done. Now this time with just the song,” he said as he opened another gash on the palm of his hand once again. She closed her eyes and began humming and stopped when she heard him chuckling. She looked, as before the wound was gone.

“Impressive!” he declared. “With just your voice you can heal wounds. Most impressive indeed, Rowan.”

“Don't ever do something like that again!” she ordered him. “Do you know how worried I was? What if it hadn't worked?”  
  
“Why I would have healed it myself,” he said plainly still grinning at her.  
  
“Why did you do that? And without warning me?” she asked still alarmed at what he had done.

“Because in battle you will not always see a blow coming. We will have to hone it another time to eliminate the need for a song. One cannot expect to burst into a tune in the midst of battle either,” he said laughing.

“It isn't funny!” she said playfully smacking his arm.

“We need to see what else you're capable of,” he said to her still laughing. He wanted to know what else she could do so he came up with another test for her to perform. Just how much of what the Garden had given her could she utilize? This could prove to be dangerous territory so he did something he had never done before in his life, he removed his wolf-bone amulet and set it on the ground beside him.

“Now, emotions,” he said to her.

“What?” This was a new direction and she was confused as to what he meant by it.

“I want to see if you can make people feel emotions they aren't already feeling,” he explained. “For example sadness, joy, fear, surprise. Just do be careful with them, turn them off as quickly as you turn them on,” he warned her. “Let's leave out anger and hate, however. I do not wish to bring you harm, there is no telling how I would respond.”

“I'm not certain about this, Solas. What if I can't turn them off?” She was genuinely worried about this test. She was about to protest again when he said, “It's alright. Nothing you can make me feel will I act upon or speak about. I've taken... precautions,” he assured her.

She stared at him from across from where she sat and focused her attention on him. She began with sadness. She imagined Solas feeling sad but nothing seemed to be happening. Perhaps she was going about this all wrong? She concentrated on it harder. For Solas it was different, however. The effect was almost immediate as he was hit with an instant wave of overwhelming and profound sadness. Sadness of what he had done to her that had caused Mythal to sacrifice Herself for Rowan, sadness over the fact that the woman he loved could not remember him, sadness that she had to go through what she was going through. And the knowledge that it had all been through his own doing made it all the worse to bear. His mind returned to the day she was dying in his arms, the hardest moment in his life, and a lone tear rolled down his face.

Rowan saw his face contort in emotional pain and though he said nothing she heard a sob catch in his throat and when she saw the lone tear fall down his face she wanted to weep for him. _So it had worked_ , she thought. Quickly she countered it with happiness. Instead of focusing on just the emotion she wanted him to feel she sent thoughts along with it. _Think of the happiest moment of your life_ , she thought as she sent the emotion his way.

Solas wiped the tear from his face as his memories took him back to before then, earlier in that day, when he had asked her for her hand in marriage and she agreed. He couldn't have been more happy than to have her as his Bride, his Queen. At that moment all his fears and sorrows had melted away when she said yes. His smile was wide as he also remembered how happy it made him when he learned that she had survived, _she lived!_ And how happy it made him to be at her side once again.

She ran him through a gambit of emotions save anger and hate. There was fear, hope, guilt, surprise, anticipation; a whole string of emotions and she was able to turn them on and off with more efficiency with each one. Sometimes she would counter one emotion with its opposing positive one as she did not enjoy seeing him suffer. Some she had to just turn off almost as quickly as she had instilled it in him just as he had instructed her to do because it was too hard to watch.

For Solas he went through so many memories as she ran him from one emotion to the other. He hadn't needed to feel anything he had never felt before for he had lived long enough to have experienced them all. He had forgotten as he became lost in his labyrinth of memories that she was controlling what he felt. As a matter of fact he couldn't think outside of these emotions as they came to him, he was swept away by her Magic completely lost to the fact that she was inspiring them as the world outside him melted away to the memories he was awash with.

She avoided hate and anger as he warned her but what about love? Did she dare try love? It was tempting, oh so tempting, but would she be able to control herself and turn it off were it to work? Then again, true to his word, he hadn't spoken or acted upon any of the others so she wondered what would happen if she made him feel love?

She wasn't aware that she was still controlling his emotions when Solas was suddenly standing in front of her and pulling her to a standing position. He was looking at her warmly with a soft smile and gently kissed her on the lips. He pulled away just long enough to whisper something softly in her ear before kissing her tenderly again. “Ar lath ma, vhenan” he had whispered to her. ... _I love you, my heart_... She felt herself giving in to the kiss just as before. Her head was dizzy from the feeling of his lips on hers. Abruptly she pulled away and took a few steps back from him almost stepping into the fire before she became too lost in the kiss. _No_ , she thought, _this isn't right_. This wasn't how she wanted it.

“Forget” she said as he looked at her bewildered as to why she had pulled away from him.

Solas came back to reality to find that he was standing a few steps away from Rowan. She looked worried and upset. He wondered what had happened? What had he done? But he couldn't recall anything about the last few minutes. He could remember just about everything she made him feel except the last few minutes of his life. He was drawing a complete blank. Is this what her amnesia felt like to her, he wondered? To want to know something but not be able to retrieve it?

“What just happened?” he asked wondering what she had done and why he couldn't recall it? “Rowan, what did you do?” Yes, what _had_ she done? What had she been thinking? It was wrong to do that to him, and what if she hadn't been able to resist and stop herself in time? Not to mention that she hadn't intended to make him forget, it just happened to be the first thing out of her mouth to counter the love spell.

“Nothing,” she lied. He didn't need his amulet to read the lie on her face. She was staring at the ground refusing to meet his gaze, her hands behind her back. “I'm tired, I think I should get some sleep. Are we done?” He decided against pressing for an answer. He already knew. _Love_. The fact that he had come to standing in front of her made him wonder what he had done? He had acted on that particular emotion, it was obvious to him for many reasons. Him standing there before her, how she evaded his gaze, the way she shuffled her feet, and the blush on her face she couldn't hide.

“Yes, we are done.” he said plainly. She obviously had used a "forget" cantrip on him and it had worked.

He picked up his amulet and draped it around his neck again. He was happy he had taken it off, he was afraid it would have amplified anything she had done as well as what he felt giving away the true nature of hers. Without it he was gratefully unaware of what had taken place emotionally but now he could feel her guilt and he knew, she _had_ used love on him and he must have kissed her which would explain the scent of lilacs on his skin and the taste of her on his lips. He must have said something to her as well because a simple kiss wouldn't have made her feel the flushed feelings he was receiving now. "Vhenan" ran through his mind and he knew then that he had told her he loved her as well as kissed her. None of the other emotions he acted upon or spoke aloud, but that one must have been more powerful than the others. _Rowhanna_ , he thought. It was the only explanation as to why he acted on that emotion and not the others.

* * *

_Once again she was battling alongside Solas, Cassandra, and Blackwall. And once again they were fighting, this time they were at The Storm Coast. The darkspawn had been making their way to the surface terrorizing and attacking the locals and they needed to locate their entry points and close them off before more came through. The last thing that they needed was another Blight on their hands, not after having to find and defeat Corypheus at the same time. The world could not stand against the Rifts, the ancient Magister, and more darkspawn._

_They were in a deep cave that had opened at the end of the mouth of a long river. They were fighting ghouls, darkspawn, and giant spiders all at once. They seemed endless. Rowan could see a Rift awaiting them towards the back of the cave that would need to be closed when this was finished. She was battle weary, they had already closed three such entry points, but this one was the last. Yet until they could seal off the tunnel more darkspawn would make their way through. Then there was the matter of the Rift. It would need to be closed before they left. That meant using the Anchor, and using the Anchor meant hiding the pain it caused her._

“ _Blackwall!” she shouted to the large, burly Human, “Cover me!” She made a dash for the entryway as soon as she spied it relying on the large warrior as her defense. A large enough hole had given way to allow the darkspawn to gain access from the Deep Roads from within the mountain. Using her arms she hefted the heavy stones that had broken away and put them back in place then sealed it tight. That should take care of any more, now it was time to finish them off._

_If it weren't for the damned spiders this would be so much easier, she thought, but there seemed to be twice as many of them every time she turned around. She turned back towards the battle to come face to face with a Hurlock Alpha and realized she was separated from the rest of the group and would have to face it alone for the time being when the scene suddenly shifted._

_She was now sitting on top of one of the elongated edges of the cave walls looking down at the battle below her. She could see the battle waging below, including herself, as she watched on from a distance while sitting next to the same young man that had been coming to her in her dreams more frequently lately. “Cole,” she said._

_She had begun to realize that these weren't nightmares but memories. She was reliving her past, but she only knew this while she was dreaming. Upon awakening this would be just another nightmare to her. Another bad dream to sketch in her book. She was grateful for what Cole was doing, and happy to see her old friend again, but he always made her forget in the end._

“ _Watching, waiting, wanting... it's ok to want,” he said smiling at her. He was the reason her dreams had become more bearable, he shifted the dream from reliving it to watching it. He always came to her now, so long as she didn't drink the tea._

“ _It's ok to want what, Cole?” she asked in response. Sometimes he still puzzled her with his words as it was difficult when dreaming to fully grasp them._

“ _Everything. He's waiting too,” he said pointing at Solas. Solas who was standing beneath her fighting off a Giant Spider to make his way to her and the Hurlock she was defending herself against._

_She now knew what he meant, but only when dreaming. They were together, they loved each other. Married. And somehow she had not died but had awoken a thousand years later to find herself in a foreign world and without her memories. And the two of them were on a quest to regain them and fighting a different battle this time. The battle to not give in to each other. Fear held Solas back. Fear of ruining her abilities to regain them. If only she could tell him that he was important in her way of remembering, but again Cole made her forget their conversations. Always._

“ _He wishes, wondering, waiting for you to remember him. He needs you to remember,” Cole said softly._

“ _I want to remember but I can't," Rowan replied. "Why can't I remember?”_

“ _Your mind won't allow it, not yet. It waits too. Waits for the right words, the right place, the right moments. You are more Her than you, and you need to become you again first.”_

“ _More who?” she asked him but she knew the answer already._

“ _They called you Rowhanna. They needed you to be Rowhanna, for them, the Elves. For love. For you love so much and so many. But you need to be you as well. Rowan and Rowhanna. You are different now, still you but more.”_

“ _Rowhanna, the Goddess of Love. How am I the Goddess of Love?” But Cole just smiled and kicked his feet gently against the rock._

_The fight had now moved on to the Rift and Cole had relocated them just above where the Elvhen Artifact was so they could watch. “You need these nightmares, without them how would you know?”_

“ _I understand,” she said. And she did, in a strange sort of way. “Thank you for making my nightmares easier, Cole. I just wish that you wouldn't-”_

“ _Make you forget?” he asked._

“ _Yes.”_  
  
_“But forgetting is what you have to, forgetting is what I do. I am only here to help the hurting. I can't heal your mind, only help your pain. I ease your suffering, it is what I do, am, me. Help the hurting and you are my friend, I help you as you once helped me.” He smiled at her._

“ _But I don't want to forget.”_

“ _I know but I can't break the rules, just bend them a little,” he said a little agitated then smiled again. “You kept me in kindness and you love him so much just as he loves you. That is why I am here.”_

“ _For him or for me?” she asked._

“ _Yes,” he answered._

“ _I'm going to wake up now, aren't I?” She wasn't ready to, but the scene below had played itself out. The Rift was closed and the team was regrouping to make their way out of the cave and back to camp._

“ _Yes, it is time to FORGET...”_

“ _Cole wait!” she cried out but it was too late, he was gone and she was waking up and fell to forgetting..._  

* * *

Solas watched her as she slept. She was having another bad dream. He had come to know the signs as he watched as she tossed and turned, and then just as suddenly she seemed to settle down slowly into a calm sleep. This had been happening with more frequency and he wondered what the cause of it was when, as if to answer his question, he heard the swooshing of air beside him. It was a familiar sound he had not heard in so long. He knew then that it was Cole without needing to look. And then Cole was sitting beside him.

“She dreams of yesterday, nightmares that are real and sometimes she dreams of you and her but it still hurts,” Cole said.

“Cole you can not be here. She can not see you. Not yet,” Solas warned him. He knew Cole had the ability to make people not only forget him but to fail to notice him entirely, but Solas wasn't certain it would work with the new Rowan.

“Don't worry, she won't notice me,” Cole replied. “She is dreaming now. I don't take the nightmares away,” he said, “I just make them so she can watch them differently, distant, and dancing away from the pain. Memories, not nightmares.”

“You've been in her dreams?” Solas asked him. That would explain the sudden calm that would come over her in her sleep. She had talked about Cole once, back in the cave, but he thought she had dreamed of him, not that Cole was actively in her dreams.

“I am there now, but she won't remember when she wakes. She remembers me because I let her, but not what we talk about. I make her forget. But a part of her remembers, remembers everything still, she is solemn and sorrowful. She wants to remember you, _both_ of her wants to remember you but only one can.”

“What do you mean _both_ of her?” Solas asked but suspected he knew what Cole meant.

“This her and that her, they are one and the same yet separated still somehow,” Cole replied. “Mythal didn't make the memories fade, the awakening did. But she is different now. But Mythal saved her; Rowan, Rowhanna. She is both and yet one and needs to become whole again.” And with that he was gone.

 _She is both_ , he had said. It was as Solas suspected. She was both Rowan and Rowhanna but needed to become _one_. Her memories of her original self combined with her new self. They needed to be in harmony with each other not fighting against each other. The two as one. It all made sense now; Rowhanna had existed longer than Rowan so it was only natural that Rowhanna's consciousness would have taken over pushing Rowan deep down beneath a layer of nothingness. Because since Rowhanna had slept She had no personality to be save love, no memories save for the Elvhen that had come to worship Her. Hers was the more dominant one only because of time as Rowan fought her way to the surface.

“Cole wait!” Rowan shouted as she bolted upright from her bedroll startling him. _Cole has been with her in her dreams_ , he reminded himself. Rowan looked around then at Solas as if she were looking for something. No not something,  _someone_.

“Rowan, are you alright?” he asked her slightly alarmed. Had Cole waited too long and she had seen him, or was this just a remnant of her dream? He hoped it was the latter.

“It's nothing, just a dream,” she said shaking off the sleepiness. “That strange, young man was talking to me about... _something_.” She reached for her book. “I have to remember something, anything. He makes the dreams... better. Cole...” she said frantically grabbing a piece of charcoal.

“How does he make them better?” Solas asked as if he didn't already know.

“I can watch them from a distance... I'm not a part of them any more, I'm more of a bystander and it makes them less frightening,” she explained while scratching away in her book, “But this time he was saying something to me and it was important. I need to remember.” She looked frustrated as she fought to recall the conversation. She could only remember his voice, his smile, and the word “Forget.” The same word she had used on Solas earlier.

She had opened her book and tried to draw the young man while trying to force her mind to remember what he had said to her, even a single word other than “forget”, but nothing came to her. All she could remember was the fight, the Rift, and that they were talking away from it all. She ignored drawing the creatures she had seen in her book, she already had such images committed to paper, so she focused on trying to draw Cole instead. But she was able to capture very little. His body and posture she could remember, and his clothing, but it was his face she couldn't duplicate. Just a smile and the wide brimmed hat. There was something about him that gnawed at the back of her brain as if a memory was attempting to bubble to the surface. She was certain if she could remember his face she could also remember what he had said and who exactly he was. Was he another Mage, she wondered?

Eventually she just gave up then had a thought. Maybe Solas knew this young man? She got up from her sleeping roll and walked over to him and handed him her book with the page opened to what little she had been able to replicate of this Cole person.

“Here,” she said pointing at Cole. “Have you ever seen this before?” _This_ , she had said, not _him_ he noted.

“Is this your Cole?” he asked her looking at the drawing. She had gotten everything down to an exact replica of Cole with the exception of his face. It was unfinished.

“Yes, well, sort of,” she said. “I can never remember his face. Only tonight could I remember his name. Cole.”

This was not a question he could answer so instead he asked her a question of his own hoping to redirect the conversation. “Couldn't this Cole person be just a part of your dreams as well?”

“No, something about him is different...” She got a far away look on her face as she continued, “He's... _compassionate_. He helps me. I can't explain how, I just know. He's the reason I can watch the dreams instead of being _in_ the dreams. He makes it happen that way, not me.”

 _Compassionate_. This was dangerous for Cole to be doing. He appreciated what he was doing for her but she was getting too close. Solas wasn't certain if that would be a good thing or not. He would have to have a word with Cole and soon.

“May I see what else you've drawn?” he asked. Without thinking she nodded and sat down, she was still trying to recall the young man's face as she stared at the embers of the long dead campfire. She waved her hand and rekindled the fire for light and heat without a thought.

 _Interesting_ , he thought as he thumbed through the pages. She was an extremely talented artist. He remembered her telling him in the Garden how before the Inquisition she used to sit in the trees and draw all the time. She had found the memory silly, but there was nothing silly about her abilities. She had a collection of images. There were darkspawn, wisps, ghouls, even Corypheus. He continued to thumb through the pages; There was Cassandra, Blackwall, Dorian and others. Josephine, Leliana and Cullen at the war table. Each picture depicted with such attention to detail. Surprisingly there were none of him at Haven or Skyhold.

He went forward to the page that she had attempted to draw of Cole but stumbled on one of him instead. She must have drawn it earlier as it appeared to be from the correct angle of her perch in the tree. His, he noticed, she captured with finer detail than all the others. As if she had poured more attention into it. Perhaps because she wasn't working from a dream? She had perfectly drawn the angle of his jawline, the slight downward slope of his eyes, the eyes that made him always look so sad to everyone. His mouth she had drawn as if he were deep in thought with a slight furrow to his brow. She had even captured the scar on his forehead. The shading and shadowing was excellent. She had captured him quite well. She was a natural.

Then he noticed something peculiar. All the others she had written their names beneath their portraits in her own handwriting save his. The word “vhenan” was scrawled beneath it instead of his name. But even more peculiar was that it was in his own handwriting. He didn't recall her ever seeing his handwriting since her awakening. Only at Skyhold would she have seen it. Why the word “vhenan” beneath his portrait, he wondered? He recalled her asking about its meaning earlier. And why had she done it in his handwriting? Cole had mentioned that she dreamt of them as well and thought perhaps she had done so without thinking about it?

He nearly blushed to think of Cole witnessing their very private moments. Had he been there with her during those dreams or was Cole merely directing her dreams to happier moments? Again, he would have to have a word with Cole, he thought to himself.

“You are remarkably well talented,” he said as he closed the book and handed it back to her. He pretended that he had not seen that last one of him. Cole's was the only one left unfinished and if Cole was not careful she would be able to capture him perfectly as well. Yes, he would definitely have to have a word with the spirit.

“I... um, thank you,” her shyness kept her from noticing his own from the idea that he had been drawn without his noticing it. “It helps,” she said. “I draw what I see in my dreams and if a name comes to me I write it in, or a phrase sometimes. I don't know if they are correct or not, however.”

He knew he couldn't answer the unasked question.“Allow me to give you a piece of advice,” he said instead. “Magically seal it so only you and you alone can open it. No one else should see what you've drawn.”

“Why? Is something wrong with them?” she asked turning her attention to him.

“It might... frighten others.” He could not explain to her that the Humans she had drawn she had once known and were now long dead by a thousand years, nor could he explain that the world had not seen another blight in a very long time. The occasional demon, yes, as spirits became twisted along the edges of the scorched lands, but the Elvhen would not understand much of what was in her book and so it was best that she kept her images hidden from prying eyes.

With her charcoal she traced a magical glyph onto its cover then waved her hand over it activating it making the glyph disappear at the same time.

“How was that?” she asked him looking up at his face.

“How did you know to do that?” It wasn't that it was unheard of, what she did, but he hadn't taught her that. Not now and not back then. He looked at her in veiled awe.

“I'm not sure. I just did. Is it wrong?” she asked.

“No, actually. It's perfect.” She had not only magically sealed it but ensured that she would never lose it. If she dropped it or someone stole it the book would always return to her. “Get some more sleep,” he said now very aware of their closeness. “Tomorrow we will arrive at Lithranil.”

“I'm not tired,” she said looking up at him remembering the kiss from earlier in the evening. She wasn't tired but she was fighting off the urge to grab his face and plant a kiss on his lips. She realized then that she wanted him to kiss her again. The kiss from earlier was nice, but it was spell-induced. She wanted him to kiss her and to kiss her because he truly wanted to. She kept gazing up at him.

“Yes,” Solas said gazing back at her, “You _are_ tired.” It was a simple enough spell, the same ones she used on him. Rowan yawned then tore herself away from him slowly making her way back to her side of the camp. She settled down in her bedroll setting her book to the side. She was suddenly very tired again so she shifted her position for a more comfortable sleep and then began drifting off. Solas was relieved it had worked and that she was now beginning to fall asleep. He hated the deception but he had read the look in her eyes and he had come close to responding.

“ _Watching, waiting, wanting... it's ok to want,”_ she repeated Cole's words right as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Solas on the other hand stayed awake just watching her. He had overheard what she had just said knowing it was something from her dream with Cole. He replayed the words in his mind as well as the perfectly depicted portrayal of him in her book. _Vhenan_ , it had said. Not Solas but _vhenan_.

“ _Watching, waiting, wanting... it's ok to want,”_ Cole had said to her.


	14. The Union at Lithranil

They arrived at Lithranil by late morning. The town was not what she had expected. When Solas had told her it was a settlement she had imagined Elves in the forest living in the trees with wooden ramparts, not a town. She wasn't disappointed, just a little surprised. The town itself was impressive. The entrance was framed by two, tall statues of great August Rams artfully chiseled out stone. It was circular and little houses lined up against the walls in rows. The houses were quaint and simple yet the doors were all painted with bright and beautiful colors, some with had nature scenes painted on them. One side of the town appeared dedicated to shops but many seemed to be closed as the owners had taken to setting up shop in the streets today. There were stalls of Elves selling wares of beautiful silk ribbons, fine clothing, and headdresses made of twisted silver and fresh flower wreaths in a cluster in the streets. There was even a tall tavern to the left that had Elves coming and going, all in merriment.

The town was bustling with Elves everywhere, everyone seemed to be out and about the town today dressed in finery, many carrying flowers to decorate the town with. There was one Elven woman carrying a basket of fresh cut flowers of various varieties who was walking about selling them to passerby's. It was a whirlwind of activity and there were even large tables set out in the center of town as fresh flowers adorned them all. There were two tall pillars of carved stone in the center of the town that had a small makeshift platform in between them. All this was garnished with red roses and large, white ribbons and seemed to be the dominant focal point. No one was on it, it was if it served a purpose yet to be performed.

Rowan turned to Solas and looked at him. “What's going on?” she asked.

“It seems as if the town is preparing for a festival of sorts,” he stated. "By the looks of things I would say one meant to celebrate love." Elves were flitting about everywhere decorating this or selling that. It seemed that the town was completely filled today with the entire population. Even small children were running about laughing with ribbons tied to the end of wooden sticks, the ribbons waving and whipping about in the air gracefully.

All the Elves seemed to be dressed in fine yet whimsical clothing. The females wore garments that flowed and were all made of semi-sheer fabrics. They wore their hair down and loose with wreaths of flowers upon their heads or had their hair pinned up in intricate braids held up by combs made of twisted, delicate silver. She noticed that most of the females wore white or soft pinks, and the men in soft tans and greens. Rowan suddenly felt out of place with her shabby clothing they had acquired from the Deep Roads, for she was the only female dressed in pants.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed. Their presence seemed to cause a bit of a stir as the Elves stopped as they stood in the entrance, all eyes turning towards them. They all smiled suddenly and most went back to whatever they had been doing at the time when a small group of Elven females headed their way. One elderly female seemed to lead the group accompanied by three young Elven females; one was a blonde, the other a brunette, and the last a redhead. Rowan felt awkward and a little skittish as the group approached Solas and her.

The elderly female approached Rowan ignoring Solas completely and without warning hugged her tightly as if they had been fast friends. Rowan didn't know how to respond to the sudden embrace so she merely hugged her in return. The female behaved as if this was a natural thing to do and Rowan wondered if it was? She looked at Solas who merely shrugged.

“Welcome to Lithranil, friend!” the female said smiling at her warmly. "My name is Vela'than. I am the town Elder and we welcome you on this fine day!"

“I... thank you, Vela'than” Rowan replied timidly forcing a small smile. “Have we interrupted something important?” she asked. It had not gone unnoticed to her that she had addressed Rowan and not Solas or the both of them.

“Oh no, by all means you're just in time! Come, come. The both of you,” she said grabbing Rowan's hand dragging her along. “Today we are celebrating a Union of Love,” she said in a sing song voice. She may have been much older but she had a playful charm to her. “We are delighted to have you with us. Not to mention that you have plenty of time to get ready!”

“Get ready for... ?” Rowan asked somewhat nervously.  
  
“The Union of Love, naturally! And, well, those clothes simply will not do. Not that there's anything wrong with them, just not for today!” she said while eyeing Rowan's garb. “No, not for a female such as yourself. You will need a dress. A fine dress, in fact. Come, now,” she said dragging a befuddled Rowan to a stall that held a display of many beautiful and finespun looking dresses. Everything was happening so quickly and Solas had opted to stay behind leaving her to this group of females.

One minute she had been at the town entrance with Solas, and the next thing she knew she was surrounded by the Elder female who called herself Vela'than, along with the three other Elven females, all making a grand fuss out of her. She didn't quite understand what was going on. Perhaps it was customary, or perhaps they just wanted her to blend in with the festivities? She wasn't even certain they would be attending them but it seemed as if it would be an affront not to at this point. She looked back at Solas who was looking on with a curious expression on his face. He shrugged again as if to say he didn't know what all the excitement was about either.

“Here, let us find you something more suitable,” she said as she rummaged through the dresses holding them up to Rowan's body inspecting each one against her frame. She went through several such dresses until finally she found one that was adorned with delicate ribbons that held the dress together. It was white and sheer much like the others. Rowan was certain she would tear something so delicate. She wasn't sure she had the grace to pull off such a dress. The Elder looked at her while holding the dress up then looked into Rowan's face, then smiled in approval. “Simply stunning, you will be the talk of the evening in this. Yes, this is the one for you. Here, my dear, have it,” Vela'than said handing the dress to Rowan.

“I'm afraid I don't have anything to offer for the dress... My Lady,” Rowan said. The other females that had been with the Elder cooed at the dress that Vela'than had chosen for her, nodding in approval.

“Nonsense!” she said smiling wide. “You are a guest here in our town and on this fine occasion a female such as yourself deserves an equally fine dress!  _You_ are the Lady here today, not I! Now hush and let's find you other things you may need! And please, do call me Vela'than, love!” She handed the dress to Rowan as she and the other females continued to drag her from stall to stall rummaging through potential accessories and shoes to outfit her with taking her further away from Solas. She was on her own now with these ladies.

Solas watched as the Elven females fawned over Rowan. They had arrived on a day of love, a Union day. A couple was to be wed and everywhere the small crowd of females took Rowan the others would stop and look at her in awe. Even though she was dressed in men's clothing she still stood out among all the other females. Her stark white hair and glittering black eyes just made her stand out all the more from the sea of browns, reds, and blondes. Only the Elder Vela'than came close to having hair as white as Rowan's but it was peppered with gray.

Solas stayed back grateful that no one paid him any attention, as a matter of fact all the attention seemed to be aimed at Rowan. He didn't know if the fact that the Elves were celebrating a festival for love was a good thing as the Elves were already in a heightened state of excitement, or would “Rowhanna” amplify the evening events? He decided that he would have to make his trades now while they were distracted with her so they could leave in a hurry in the advent that things spiraled out of control. It also hadn't failed his notice of the males whose heads turned as she walked past them. She was beautiful and she certainly stood out. She was by far the most beautiful female in the group, but then again he was biased. But the reaction from the males is what concerned him the most. He would have to keep a close eye on her and them, he thought. There was no telling what effect she would have on them, especially on a day like this. He might have to intervene on her behalf, but for the moment he merely watched as he walked over to the vendors.

He went to the food vendor. There was cured meat, cheese, dried fruits and other assorted foods available. All good things for traveling, he thought.

“Good day,” he said to the male behind the stall. “I would like to trade for some food if you don't mind? My companion and I have a long journey ahead of us and will need supplies.” He wasn't very good at social interaction, he knew, but he tried his best.

“You arrived with that female, yes?” the young Elven male asked him as his eyes followed her in the crowd then darted back to Solas slightly embarrassed.

“Why yes, I did indeed,” he replied curtly without intending to. Was that a hint of jealousy Solas was feeling as he watched the male's eyes trained on Rowan and back again?  
  
“Then take whatever you need. No need to trade, not today,” he said smiling at Solas. Solas picked out some of the cheese, cured meats, and some dried fruits. They wouldn't need much and this should do them well until they hit the mountains. The young male packaged everything up then placed it in a burlap sack handing it over to Solas.

“Please, allow me to offer you something in exchange,” Solas insisted when he was done.

“By all means no! You two are our guests of honor! As a matter of fact, let me get someone to fetch you two a room.” He noticed the younger Elf was still staring at Rowan then back at Solas again. He waved another young Elf over to the stall. No, he thought, this was not a good sign at all. Thankfully Elves weren't violent by nature, not for the most part. Solas could only hope a fight didn't break out over her.

“Get this couple a room. Free of charge,” the male said to a much younger female.

Solas blushed slightly at the word "couple." He couldn't bring himself to admit that they weren't a couple and thought perhaps it was best if they believed they were? It might tame down some of the commotion with the other males. Yet he found himself requesting two rooms. He couldn't put Rowan in that situation without having discussed it first.

“Oh you aren't a couple then?” The Elf smiled broadly then frowned. “I'm afraid one is all we have left, Sir,” the young Elf admitted to him.

“No matter, I'll sleep in a chair,” Solas replied. They've shared rooms aplenty and he could just as easily sleep on the floor if there was room. Rowan would understand if he explained to her that there had only been one room to spare.

“Show this man to their room,” the Elf said. “Oh and do get yourself some clothing for tonight. Better yet I'll have them sent to you,” he added as Solas was dragged away by the young girl.

The lovely, young Elven girl smiled up at him broadly. “This way, Sir,” she said grabbing his hand and dragging him along. She was much shorter than him and wore a dress of pink silk with flowers in her brown hair. She blushed whenever he looked at her. He was unaccustomed to this kind of reaction from the opposite sex, not to mention she was far too young for him. She led him to the town tavern and up a flight of stairs then down the end of a hall. She opened a door on her right. “Here, Sir. Your room, Sir,” she said as waved him in. Solas didn't want to be away from Rowan, he wanted to be able to keep an eye on her, but everything was happening so quickly. The young girl exited the room then returned shortly with fresh clothing for him. “Clothing for you, Sir. From my mother, Sir.”

“Please, just call me Solas,” he said to her. He wasn't used to others calling him “Sir.”

“Yes Sir, I mean Solas, Sir” she sputtered.

That's when it dawned on him. During a day of marriage it was considered good luck if the establishment was visited by a couple of extraordinary beauty or a rare and beautiful wild animal. Though he suspected it was Rowan that was the beauty, not him. That would explain all the commotion and he relaxed a bit. It was considered a gift from Rowhanna Herself blessing the Union. That's what all this "Sir" nonsense was about. Of all the days to stumble upon the town why did it have to be this one, he sighed.

“Shall I draw your bath for you, Sir, I mean Solas?” she asked him blushing ever so slightly as she went to fill the bath with a pump.

“What? Oh... No. There is no need. I can attend to that myself, thank you.” Extraordinary circumstances or not, he still was unaccustomed to being treated like some form of nobility. No, he had always been treated by his peers as an outcast. He had always been the outsider even at the Inquisition save for Rowan. She had never made him feel less than. On the contrary she had always seemed to look up to him and would often seek out his opinion on matters, or to impart wisdom, as well as delighting in hearing the tales of his travels. From the very beginning she had treated him with the utmost respect.

Solas placed the clothing on a nearby table and leaned his staff in a corner next to the sole window. On the floor near his pack he placed the sack of goods he had obtained from the vendor. He looked around the room. It was quaint with a standing mirror, two overstuffed chairs and a table. There was the tub with the water pump to the far side of the room, and a fireplace next to the bed. Lanterns hung from the wall and true to their word there was only one bed; a bed for two with silk sheets and fur pelts for warmth scattered with large, stuffed pillows. The girl had turned down the bed before exiting. He would allow Rowan to have the comfort of the bed, there was plenty of space for him to set up his bedroll on the floor if the overstuffed chair proved insufficient. He could bathe later, he thought. He had to get back to Rowan, he didn't want to leave her out of his eyesight for too long.

Almost as if he had summoned her she suddenly burst into the room with three young Elven females attending her, all carrying various items. She looked confused and her face was flushed from all the attention she was being given.

“Solas? What are you doing here?” she asked a little surprised at his presence in the room. Ah, she had not been told he realized.

“I'm afraid one room was all that was left,” the girls giggled at this amused that the two of them would be sharing a room.

“I don't know what's going on,” she whispered to him, “but they insist on doing everything for me.”

“Sir, may stay with his Lady if he likes,” one of them said. This one had curly, red hair. Another had begun to pump water into the bath for Rowan. There were three of them; a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. Young witches, he thought? No. They were merely acting out the aged old concept of the power of three witches each with different colored hair. It amused him slightly when he realized that neither of them had even the slightest hint of Magic to them, they were just reenacting an old notion from long ago. Some of the items in the room were enchanted such as the water pump which would pump out hot water for the bath, the lanterns on the wall that could be activated by even the mundane, even the fireplace, but the girls themselves were no witches or Mages.

“No," Solas said returning to the conversation at hand. "I will leave you ladies be.” He didn't even bother correcting them as he quickly began to open the door as one of the girls began to busy herself with unbuckling the straps of Rowan's boots. He didn't need to be there for her undressing nor her bathing. Rowan just stood there still in shock looking at him as he began exiting the room.

“Yes Sir,” the red haired girl said.

“ _Solas_ , please.”

“Yes, _Solas,_ ” she replied looking at him dreamily. The attention made him nervous so he left the room in a hurry shutting the door behind him. He would return to the vendors. He still needed to procure transportation for the both of them and he would browse around so as not to offend anyone. There were other items he wanted to obtain anyhow, one a special gift for Rowan herself.

One of the girls drew a bath for Rowan while another went to add rose petals to her water when she stopped her. “That won't be necessary,” she said to the young girl. “You're right, My Lady Rowan," she said. This was the brunette. "Roses aren't your scent. I'll be back!” In a flurry she hurried out of the room only to return moments later with a handful of lilac petals and sprinkled them into the bath water. Rowan had been fending off the blonde girl that was attempting to help her undress. She didn't want to be undressed in front of them.

Rowan had long given up on trying to get them to simply call her by her name. They kept on calling her "My Lady" and she wasn't certain why. When she had told them what her name was the blonde said her name breathlessly as if enchanted by it. "Rowan," she had said, "Short for Rowhanna, the Goddess of love!" The three had cooed over this revelation but it had made her nervous. They treated her more like royalty after that, which only served to exacerbate the entire ordeal. The mention of Rowhanna brought back painful memories for her of Mother and the Garden and upon seeing this they had ushered her to the room in which she now stood.

“Would My Lady like some privacy in which to bathe?” the blonde girl asked demurely.

“I... yes please.” The red haired girl pulled down a netting that was white and sheer and offered little in the way of privacy from the giggling girls. Were all Elves like this, she wondered, or was it because of the festival? They stood on the other side of the netting laying out her gown and slippers. They had chosen several pins fashioned into silver leaves for her hair. She declined any other accessories, especially when it came to her necklace. That she would not take off.

Rowan climbed into the bath and wondered how they had gotten the water so warm from the pump? There was no fire beneath the tub so she figured it must be Magic. She set about bathing away the sweat and dirt off of her from their travels. She started with her hair. She unpinned her hair and set the Dragon comb from Mother to the side. She set about undoing her braids and washed the grime from her hair and her body using the sponge that had been provided for her. They had also given her a bar of soap which was thankfully unscented. It was bad enough that she now smelled of lilacs from the petals in her bath water. Rowan had been unaware that she already smelled of lilacs so was uncertain why they had chosen this particular flower for her bath. She enjoyed the scent but thought it might be too overpowering. There was little that she could do about it so she continued to scrub away at her skin with the sponge.

When she was done she stepped out of the bath and dried off. She heard the girls giggling again and wondered why they giggled so much around her? They had placed a red, silk robe beside the bath and she slipped into it after drying off, wrapping the front closed around her body hiding herself away from their prying eyes. Rowan had the feeling that she had never been fussed over as much as these girls fussed over her.

“Is My Lady done?” one of them asked. She had long given into them addressing her as "My Lady" or "My Lady Rowan" so she simply sighed. Apparently Solas had the same problem as she had heard them refer to him as “Sir.”

Rowan stepped out from behind the netting and saw that the dress had been laid out on a large bed blanketed by several fur pelts and overstuffed pillows. The bed had already been turned down and a red, silk nightdress that matched the robe was also laid out on the bed beside her dress. She would not be wearing that this evening, she thought. No, she would sleep in her normal night attire. Not if she and Solas were sharing a room.

That's when she noticed that the room only had one bed, a bed for two next to a fireplace. She recalled him stating that there had only been one available room. She sighed again for this was not going to be easy. Yes, the nightgown was definitely out of the question, she told herself.

She went to look around the room when one of the girls came over and began to slip off Rowan's robe as if it were a common thing to do. Rowan went to protest when the girl said, “The dress needs assistance in putting it on properly! You will need help with the ribbons!"

Rowan looked at the dress on the bed. It only had one sleeve, if it could be called that. It simply tied at the right shoulder with no enclosure for the arm itself, it would merely hang from the shoulder and flow down draping to her waist. It seemed more for decoration than anything. Just a long wisp of fabric to dangle from underneath. The front would sprawl down beneath the other arm on the left with gathers at the waistline. There was no sleeve on the left, just a set of three ribbons beneath the underarm to hold the dress together. Surely the design was meant to compliment her bosom and her waistline. The fabric was sheer white. She didn't see any small clothes on the bed. Just the dress, the white slippers, and the hair pins. Certainly she could tie these ribbons herself, but she knew better to insist on it.

She looked at the other girls who were similarly dressed in semi-sheer gowns that flowed freely and easily showed a hint of their breasts and thighs through the fabric. “I can't possibly wear that,” she said, her modesty getting the best of her. “Everyone will... see me,” she blushed. Solas would see her as well and she blushed harder at the thought. And she had thought that the dresses Mother had given her had been too revealing. _Not like this,_ she thought to herself.

“Oh but you must!” the brunette cried out in feigned disappointment. “The dress is perfect for you and you will be the most beautiful lady in town!” She forced Rowan's hands away and they slipped off the robe. She stood now completely in the nude in front of these girls as they cooed over her while simultaneously helping her into the dress.

One began tying the ribbon on her right shoulder that held the dress up for the most part while another delicately lifted her left arm and began tying the three ribbons the held the dress together at her side where it gathered. She was afraid if she moved the ribbons would come undone and her dress would come apart exposing her. It billowed out at her hips into three layers of sheer fabric, each with a slit up to her mid thigh at various points. Hopefully, she thought, it was enough to hide her nether region though she doubted it.

“What about my small clothes?” she asked shyly. The girls giggled at her and one of them said, “We don't wear them on Union festivals.” Rowan noticed that none of the other girls were wearing any and wondered how she hadn't noticed it before now? Perhaps she could get away with slipping on her own pair when they left her? _If_ they left her side. She was beginning to doubt it.

They sat her down on a stool and began working on her hair. One of the girls combed her hair out gently and then they began pinning it up with the silver leafed pins. Instead of braids like the others, they made twists of curls and would pin each curl gently onto her scalp. A large lock of her hair in the back was left down and then twisted to the side and held it in place with a white ribbon that matched those of her dress. Against her hair and skin the dress was still creamy looking in comparison. “My Lady is so fair of hair and skin,” remarked the blonde as if in envy of Rowan's porcelain skin and snow white hair.

When they were done they ushered her to the standing mirror and Rowan hardly recognized herself. Her hair looked as wispy and elegant as the dress, complimenting her face and showing off her long, pointed ears. The silver leaves shined in the sunlight that poured through the window. They had placed them in her hair with the curls artfully. The side curl dangled over her exposed left shoulder. The dress scooped down her breast line and gathered at her left side where the ribbons were tied making her waistline appear daintier than it truly was. The dress hung down around her hips in layers of white, and when she moved the slits allowed for a partial peek at her legs. And yes, her breasts could slightly be seen through the fabric. Her necklace rested on her partially exposed bosom. She blushed to think of Solas seeing her this way, let alone an entire town of strangers. At least, she thought, she wouldn't have to wear small clothes as she noticed how the fabric was thick enough with it's layers to hide her nether region.

They helped her into her slippers. They were modest, plain white slippers meant for comfort. Dancing, she assumed.

“Your Husband will be delighted to see you in this dress,” the brunette said in awe. She was truly the most beautiful female the girl had ever seen.

“My _Husband?_ ” Rowan asked. “Oh no, he's not my Husband. We aren't together. I mean we are, but not in that way...” she flushed at the thought. They thought she and Solas were married!

“Oh we just assumed... We're sorry My Lady” the blonde said.

“If he did not desire her before, he will now,” the redhead said to the other two and they all giggled at that. “We'll go fetch him so that he may get prepared as well.” They left the room in a flurry and Rowan made a dash for her robe and slipped it on over her dress as they ushered him in still giggling.

“What is going on, Solas?” she asked as he shut the door. He noticed that she had a red robe on and could see the slips of white fabric peeking out from the bottom. Whatever they had dressed her in she appeared to be embarrassed by. He looked at her hair, long twists and drapes of curls and locks scattered with silver leafed pins. He had never seen her done up so elegantly before. His heart skipped a beat. He could only wonder at what she hid beneath her robe that had made her feel so modest?

“It is simple, we arrived at the festival for a Union of Love, and belief has it that an unknown visitor of exceptional beauty... It's a symbol of good luck for the couple,” he tried to explain to her. “Why are you wearing a robe?” he asked suddenly changing the topic.

“This dress it's... it's _revealing_. And not like the ones Mother gave me." He saw her cheeks flush. "I don't think I can do this, Solas.” But she was afraid if she didn't she might offend the young girls that had attended her, and possibly the couple as well.

“We have to, and it can't possibly be that bad, Rowan. May I see it?” he asked. He wasn't certain if he really wanted to see what she was hiding but he had asked anyhow.

“No! I can't go out there like this, Solas!” she cried out. "I don't know what they were thinking putting me in this... _thing!_ "

“It's alright, it can't be any more exposing than what the other females are wearing.” he said nonchalantly.

Rowan turned her back to him, slipped off her robe, then slowly turned and faced him. He simply stared at her. The dress was extremely flattering, they had chosen very well for her, but she was correct in that is showed a little more than he was suddenly comfortable with. It was no worse than the others, but this was Rowan he was looking at, not them. Her hair draped over the porcelain skin of her exposed left shoulder. The ribbons tightened the dress to flatter her tiny waist while still being gathered loose enough at the top to scoop down showing off the gentle swell of her cleavage, and it was sheer enough to show the slightest hint of her breasts. As she shifted her weight nervously a flash of her legs would become exposed through the slits in the layers of her skirt. His eyes roamed over her from her face to her body and back again. He tore his eyes off of her and eyed the bath to avoid embarrassing her though he thought it was probably too late. He had stared longer than he should have. He looked about the room, it smelled of lilacs. They must have used it in her water, he surmised.

He had been staring at her and she blushed again. She seemed to be blushing a lot today, she thought. “I should step out, let you bathe and get dressed,” she said putting the robe back on. Rowan stepped out of the room and the girls giggled again when they noticed she was wearing the robe and had a flush in her cheeks.

“My Lady can not attend the festival in her robe!” the blonde gasped. “No, here, let me have that. Let us take you outside! You should meet everyone. Your _friend_ can find you later.” Rowan noticed the emphasis on the word “friend” as she took the robe off of her gently. Then they were escorting her down the stairs.

 _I've fought dragonlings, giant spiders, and deepstalkers. Surely I can be brave enough to walk about in this dress?_ she tried to convince herself. Besides, all the girls were revealing in some fashion, she reminded herself. Then she thought back to the way Solas had looked at her. She hoped none of the others would look at her the same way or she would certainly end up hiding in the room for the entirety of the festival. The girls were now leading her through the filled tavern and out the door as everyone stared at her. Everywhere they took her the Elves stared at her, but Rowan had no time to think in the midst of their chattering and giggling and slowly she forgot all about her modesty as she blended in with the crowd. Or so she had hoped.

Solas drew his own bath and washed off. He put on the silk tunic they had provided for him and the soft trousers. The tunic was cream colored and went well with the light green trousers they had chosen to go with it as it draped in the front and the back in a similar fashion to his own. He laced up his tunic and forewent the shoes they had provided. He wasn't fond of shoes and there were many other males that were barefooted as well so he wouldn't stand out. He looked at room again. A bed made for two with a flimsy nightdress already laid out for her on top of the fur pelts. He truly hoped she would avoid wearing it tonight. He had a feeling they wouldn't be able to leave until the morning.

He pocketed the gift he had gotten for Rowan. He told himself that he had bought it on impulse, but that was a lie. He had intentionally searched for the perfect gift for her and would give it to her later. He wasn't certain when, but it would definitely be this evening during the festival. He wasn't sure if he should give it to her in private, he hadn't thought about that until now. He decided he would give it to her when the timing felt right. He would know, he told himself.

He would have to be careful to avoid Rowan for extended periods of time, but still be close enough to keep an eye on her in the advent that something went amiss. He had already gathered enough food to last them several days without having to hunt too much. Once they got to the mountains near Skyhold they would have to rely on hunting more so. He had also procured two sturdy Mountain Harts so they could make the journey faster. Every time he tried to trade the Elves refused, but when it came to the Harts and the gift he had to use Magic on the vendors to accept his offers. Their camp nights would become colder in the evenings so he had also made exchanges for two small tents and several pelts and blankets to fend off the cold mountain air. All of this could easily be bundled up and carried on the Harts with ease.

Rowan was dragged around by the three giggling girls being introduced to everyone in the whole town it seemed. The Elves would stare at her but were warm and friendly. The males seemed to be vying for her conversation asking her a million questions about herself that she didn't have answers good enough answers for so she was vague on details. They asked her questions about where she was from. Who was the man that had arrived with her? Were they married? Was _she_ married? The last few confused her until it dawned on her that they were attempting to assess whether or not she was available. When she answered "No" they would begin to flirt with her endlessly. She was not used to such attention and it made her all the more shy, which seemed to make her more endearing to both the males and the females. The females didn't seem jealous by the attention the males were giving her, on the contrary they seemed to be just as flirtatious.

She became a little more comfortable with her state of attire as she noticed that the other females were dressed in similarly sheer dresses. Many were extremely short and showed off their beautiful legs so she was thankful that her dress was long at least. When she walked or turned the slits in the skirt would flash a little of her legs but she became less embarrassed by it the more she was dragged around.

She was introduced to the couple that the festival was for, a sweet young couple obviously deeply in love with each other. She congratulated them on their upcoming Union and was earnestly curious as to what the wedding would be like. According to the girls the couple would exchange necklaces that each had fashioned on their own for the other. Then as they spoke their vows their hands would be tied together for the remainder of the ceremony. A Handfasting, they told her it was called. Afterwards there would be feasting and music and dancing. And something they called a Pairing Ceremony.

“What is a 'Pairing Ceremony'?” she asked.

“Oh you've never heard of one? My you must have never attended a Union before!” one of them exclaimed.

“No, I... lived alone with my Mother for the most part,” she said. Which wasn't a lie, but she couldn't remember the real truth so for her all of this was foreign to her. Or perhaps her Clan, wherever she was from, did things differently?

“Why a Pairing Ceremony is when after the Union the Elder, Vela'than, gathers all the single Elves into a circle,” the brunette explained. “While the music plays she takes the hand of a random male and female and pairs them off to dance together!" The three girls seemed very excited to tell her all about this Pairing Ceremony.

“Of course another male may challenge the dance if he fancies the female,” the redhead said smiling at her with a wink.

The blonde continued, “It is said that the first couple to leave the dance floor together will be the next to wed! It's all nonsense of course," she said waving her hand, "Unless you believe in that sort of thing,” she finished with a smile.

Rowan was beginning to get the impression that the Ceremony was meant to bring other couples together. She didn't have to guess at what couples who left with one another did that evening. Now the absence of the small clothes made sense to her. Not only to entice, but to avoid having to remove later if paired with an acceptable male and love making occurred.

“You will be joining in I hope?” the blonde girl asked.

“I would love to see who our Elder pairs you off with!" the redhead proclaimed. "Though you don't have to leave with anyone, it isn't required..." she whispered to Rowan with a sly smile.

"You must participate, My Lady Rowan! It would be great fun!” the blonde announced in excitement.

“And your male friend, he should join too!” declared the redhead. Rowan noticed her hair was long and curly, adorned with fresh flowers. She was young but beautiful, she thought. They were all young and beautiful. As a matter of fact she couldn't recall an unsightly Elf at all around her.

“Oh, I don't think he dances,” Rowan said uncertain whether or not he did.

“Oh, what a shame,” the redhead said with a hint of disappointment in her voice. Was that a slight twinge of jealousy Rowan felt when she realized the girl fancied Solas? It took her by surprise so she brushed it aside quickly.

Suddenly a bell rang and there was a bustle of activity as all the Elves scrambled for a seat at the various tables that were scattered around. The vendors began closing up their shops by simply unraveling a cloth to indicate that they were closed and also found themselves a seat. Families sat together and everyone seemed to get quiet as the music began to play. The Elder female was standing on the platform. The one that had first greeted her. That's when she saw Solas leaning up against a far wall staring at her. He looked very handsome to her in his finery, very regal and commanding. He was without his staff, she noticed, simply leaning against the wall with his arms folded, the lean muscles in his arms showed as the tunic he wore had no sleeves. She had never seen his arms before, they were tone and athletic looking. Not at all what she had imagined. He was simply leaning there staring at her curiously with his head slightly cocked to one side as if he was observing her.

He had been watching her as she had been dragged around through town trying to allow her the freedom of enjoying the event without him hovering over her every move, but he had been ever vigilant. He merely stayed against the far wall and watched as she had been dragged about by the three young girls. It had not failed his notice the attention she received by both the males and the females. When the bell rang the girls had begun to drag Rowan away from where they had been standing.

“Come, sit with us!” one of the girls said dragging her to a table. She was suddenly distracted from him as everyone got quiet and the town fell into a hush. The music shifted to a more melodic and romantic tune as the sun began to set and the Elder rang the bell again on the platform signaling the beginning of the Union. The Bride emerged from one side and the Groom from another, each holding something between their hands. Their gift necklaces, she thought and absentmindedly toyed with hers. They each ascended the platform and met in the center smiling and staring lovingly into each others eyes.

A hushed calm fell over the town as Union began. Rowan watched on as the couple exchanged their necklaces and recited their vows. A solitary tear of joy rolled down her cheek at the beauty of love that was unfolding before her. While they recited their vows the Elder draped a large, wide, red ribbon around their clasped hands then tied a great knot when they were done that would bind their hands together for the remainder of the evening. They would not be separated for the rest of the Ceremony.

Just as the sun set beneath the horizon almost on cue they sealed their Union with a kiss. That's when she heard her name being called from the platform. "Rowan," the Elder said her name, "Come join us." The Elder was waving her over to her and the couple. The girls pushed her and one whispered in her ear, “You must bless the Union now. You are the special guest, My Lady Rowan!” Rowan was extremely confused. What was she supposed to do, and why did they honor her so? The girls ushered her to the platform. Rowan looked at Solas but he just watched as if he was deep in thought. She climbed the steps of the platform and slowly approached the Elder as she waved her over to stand at her side.

“The great Rowhanna has seen fit to bless this couple's Union with the gift of beauty," the Elder announced to the crowd. "Meet Rowan, our symbolic Rowhanna for this Union. May She bless this couple so that their happiness and love continues to grow from this day forth!” she cried out. She looked at Rowan and whispered in her ear.

Rowan approached the couple as they turned to her smiling, their love for each other bounced off of her and emanated from her necklace. Their two hearts beating as one. She placed one hand on theirs and said, “I bless this Union that you may find yourselves ever in love always. From here till the end of your days and in the great beyond may you always find each other.” She hadn't time to rehearse what the Elder woman had told her to say but the words flowed from her mouth naturally as if she had heard or said them before. She smiled at the two of them as she lifted then kissed their bound hands then stepped back. She looked at the couple with great joy on her face and the swell of love in her heart for them. “May you now always be known as not two, but one. Separate yet whole as each completes the other. May no other come between you, and may you only know love for one another,” she said finishing the blessing.

The couple kissed again and the crowd cheered. Their Rowhanna, Solas thought. Mere coincidence, he told himself but not entirely believing the lie. If the other Elves were too enraptured to notice he was not. He could almost see the power of Rowhanna emanating off of her as she blessed the couple. He wondered if Rowan herself noticed a difference or was too caught up in what she was doing? Was this a tradition? Yes, in many settlements; but this was no ordinary young beauty that graced the Union, this was Rowhanna Herself, and he wondered how this would affect Rowan? He shrugged away his worries for the time being as he just stared at her.

She was beautiful and her face glowed with joy and love. Her shyness had melted away when she had begun the blessing and now she was smiling wide as she watched the couple kiss their final sealing kiss. This couple would know no heartache, he knew, for they had been blessed by the Goddess of Love Herself in the flesh. He, too, felt the pull of Rowhanna as did the other Elves as slightly flirtatious grins were cast amongst each other between the single males and females in the crowd. The already married couples also kissed each other as if to renew their own past Unions. Yes, he felt it and he would not be able to ignore it at this rate.

Love permeated the town and Solas looked on as Rowan descended the platform. Real love that had been amplified by Rowhanna's abilities. She had spied him against the wall and was making her way towards him, her skirt flaring out with each step exposing the supple flesh of her legs. Even he was not exempt from the effect she had on the Elves, but he could not very well ignore her so he allowed her to approach him. She seemed to float in his direction, all modesty washed away. She was captivating and graceful as well as confident now. He was enthralled and could not walk away from her if he truly wanted to. As it was, he did not wish to. No, he wanted to be in her company more so now than ever before.

Suddenly the spell he was under melted away as he heard the Elder cry out, "Let the Pairing Ceremony begin!"


	15. The Pairing Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Contains heavily explicit scenes!

The Elves busied themselves with moving the tables out of the way and along the walls so those who were not participating could watch the Pairing Ceremony and cheer them on. Rowan had been making her way over to Solas when the announcement rang out and once again the three girls were at her side pulling her back and into the throng with them.

“Come, My Lady Rowan, you must join us!” the redhead cried out.

“I'm not sure that I know how to dance,” Rowan protested.

“It will be fun, we promise!” the blonde said in turn.

Reluctantly Rowan allowed herself to be dragged to the circle on the side where all the single females stood, each hoping to meet a fetching male for the evening. Each hoping to find love. She could see it on both the females and the males, they were entranced by the idea of finding their perfect partner during the Pairing Ceremony. The whole crowd seemed love-struck this evening. Rowan was unaware that she was the cause of this, her powers of Rowhanna had been tapped into during the blessing.

The stars were coming out as the sky darkened to night and magical paper lanterns hung in the air everywhere. She looked for Solas but did not see him among the males. She didn't want to do this but then again she didn't want to hurt the feelings of the young girls either. She attempted to stand somewhat in the back hoping she would be overlooked. She didn't even know if she _could_ dance let alone want to. The Elder stood in the center smiling as the music began to play and the couple that had been wed danced first. The night was to celebrate them, after all. As they left the center and stood to watch on, the music picked up in tempo to a more lively tune. It signaled that the Pairings would now commence.

The Elder walked over to the females and grabbed a random hand dragging a smiling young girl across the other side as a random male was chosen to be her dance partner. The young girl blushed at first, obviously pleased with her choice, then they began dancing. This went on and on with the circle filled with couples and Rowan found she was relaxing and rather enjoyed watching these young couples dancing. She began clapping to the tune when everyone else did. Every once in awhile a male would step forward and politely tap the other on the shoulder indicating his desire for the female in question. Afterwards a few of them would go sit at a table talking while others would rejoin the circle. Not one couple left the dance floor for a room that she could see.

Two of the three girls that had attended her had already been paired off and it seemed that the dance was coming to an end by the shift in music to a slower melody. Rowan let out a sigh of relief that she had not been chosen when suddenly the Elder was grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the crowd. The Elder looked around as if searching for the right male for her and Rowan was suddenly embarrassed. She couldn't possibly do this, what if she made a fool of herself? she thought.

The Elder took her time looking through the throng of males. Rowan was about to protest when she gently took the hand of a handsome young male with jet black hair. He had piercing green eyes and his hair was the perfect counterpart to her own white hair. He beamed at her as he bowed then took her hand in his gracefully. He felt like the luckiest male there that evening to have been chosen for Rowan as her partner. He knew he would be challenged, there was no doubting it, for she was the most beautiful female in town that evening, but he was going to make what time he had with her count.

“I'm not certain I know what I'm doing,” she admitted to him under her breath.

“Don't worry, lethallin, just follow my lead and let the music be your guide.” His bright green eyes twinkled in the lantern lights as he led her into a slow yet sinuous and sensual dance that began to gently increase in rhythm. The moves becoming more intricate but she kept up with her partner. She began to relax more finding she was rather enjoying herself as she followed what he was doing and based some of her counter moves on what she had seen from the other females from before. Before she knew it they were dancing to a fast tempo and the crowd was clapping in time with the music as they had with the others. Then another male had stepped forward to challenge the dance and she found her dancing partner replaced with a new male. This one had blonde hair and was equally as handsome as the other. She felt flattered and didn't remember having so much fun before as she gave in to the music and her dance partners.

Solas watched from the wall as Rowan danced with the young males, each vying for even a moment of her time in the Pairing Ceremony no matter how brief. He fingered the gift he had for her in his pocket and Cole's words kept bouncing around in his head. “ _It's ok to want..._ ” he had said to her and knew Cole well enough to decipher the code of the young spirits meaning. He originally intended to simply challenge the dance, but then made up his mind about something else; He would have her tonight if she allowed him. He would stake his claim on his Bride, for he knew he couldn't bear to be without her any longer. He had refrained from doing so out of fear, but whatever the consequences he would shoulder them. Plus seeing her dancing with the other males made him slightly envious, and if he didn't make his move now the entire crowd of single males would intervene challenging each other for her affections. No one would challenge him, he knew. Having made up his mind he slowly made his way through the crowd then tapped the latest young male on his shoulder indicating his desire to challenge him.

The music had stopped and the gathering came to a hush and Rowan thought that the Ceremony was over until she noticed Solas standing there, tapping the young male on the shoulder. What was he doing? She thought. The male bowed and went back to the crowd a little disappointed. As a matter of fact all the males were more than a little disappointed as they knew better than to challenge this dance partner. Something about the way they looked at each other was more than an indication that they belonged together, despite both their claims that they were just friends since their arrival. The Elder looked on smiling. This was what the Elder had secretly hoped for, what they all had been hoping to see.

“Solas, you didn't have to do that,” she whispered. “I wasn't going to go off with him, or any of them for that matter. I was just having a little fun.”

“That is not why I am here, vhenan,” he said smiling down at her as the music began to play again, this time a slow romantic tune. Rowan looked at him surprisingly, had he just called her vhenan... “ _my heart”?_ It made her wonder just how much had he had to drink to call her that? And if not that then what had come over him? This was so out of character for him.

All the Elves focused on Rowan and Solas now, including the ones that had previously been paired off. Many of them had wanted to escape into the evening with each other, but had decided to stay behind until they could see who their guest of honor was paired with, who would challenge the dance and, more importantly, who she would choose if any. This waiting had never happened in this little town, and they were not disappointed. The love that emanated off the couple now dancing had been obvious to everyone, and the crowd clamored to watch the couple dance in a hush.

She looked at him somewhat shocked as he took one hand in his and intertwined their fingers together intimately as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. He then placed her other hand around his neck, and encircled her waist with his free hand, leading the dance to the sensual sway of the music with his one hand on her lower back. Again he held her close and so intimately that she found herself relaxing into the dance, following his moves. They swayed and circled one another, and once he spun her around by the tips of her fingers to only bring her back into his embrace closely. He said nothing during their dance, he only looked down at her with a glint in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips.

“I didn't know you danced, Solas,” she said smiling at him shyly as she realized the whole town was watching them.

“For you? Tonight I'll do... _anything_ ,” he replied. She was certain he had been drinking but she did not smell any alcohol on his breath. So what, then, was the explanation for this sudden behavior? He was ever the mystery to her and tonight was no exception.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She didn't know how she would be able to sleep tonight if he kept this up. They hadn't been this close together since the Deep Roads, but instead of worrying about it she gave into the dance again and allowed herself to be swept away by him. The crowd was now fawning over them from afar, but she was too unaware to notice anything outside of Solas. The Elder continued to smile as she watched on. The whole crowd was in awe of them certain that, many whispered, they would surely leave the dance together.

Solas continued to move her around the circle in a slow dance that differed vastly than what the other Elves had done. It was more intimate and intricate, and he kept pulling her in closer to him, their bodies pressing up against one another that took her breath away each time.

Before she could make heads or tails of what was happening he whisked her into his arms and began walking off heading towards the tavern. carrying her the whole way. She went to protest but he stifled it with a soft kiss causing the crowd to cheer as he continued making his way to the tavern. She merely looked up at him questioningly as he climbed the stairs with her still in his arms and then opened the door to their room. He let her legs slide down to the floor still holding on to her waist as he latched the door behind them.

"Solas, I-"

Again he stopped her with a kiss drowning out any protest she might have been attempting to make. It was a sweet and tender kiss that she found herself giving in to. He pulled away gently and looked deep into her eyes.

“Solas, I thought you said we shouldn't?” she asked confused. He had been adamant about maintaining his distance with her up until this point. Now he was behaving strangely.

“I'd rather take my chances than to spend another day without you,” he confessed to her while running the back of his hand against her soft cheek. She sighed at his touch.

“I have something for you,” he said as he reached into a pocket and pulled out the delicate ring that he had traded for. Silk ribbons for a ring. It was crafted from silver with two interwoven bands. It was nothing fancy but he had liked it, and it made him think of them; their lives interwoven with each others just as the two pieces of metal were. He presented the ring to her, took her one hand, and slipped it onto one of her delicate fingers. The finger that the Dalish used to signify marriage.

“Solas what is this all about?” Now she was genuinely bewildered as she watched him slide the ring onto her finger.

“I'm tired, Rowan,” he said to her leaning in wrapping an arm around her waist and stroking her cheek again. “I grow weary of denying how I feel about you, of not being with you. Of pretending that I don't love you when we both know that I do. I want this, but I need you to want it as well, and I want it to mean something. Tell me, do you love me as I love you?” he asked her. He already knew the answer but he still needed to hear her say it, and not in the throngs of passion either.

“I do love you, Solas,” she admitted. The things he had just said made her heart skip several beats, and what she said was true; She did love him. Very much so.

“Then think of these interlocking bands as a symbol of us, each one the other,” he said raising her hand and tracing his thumb along the metal. “They represent our lives interlacing around and connected to each other, like this ring, now and always.”

She could hear the love in his voice as he had spoken to her. She felt his finger grazing hers gently as he brushed it against the ring now. He looked into her eyes, and upon seeing the love reflected back at him, he kissed her again lightly on her lips, parting them ever so slightly with his own so he could taste her, and the sweet scent of lilacs filled his nostrils. It wasn't just lilacs he smelled now, beneath the lilacs he could smell _her_. His Rowan.

He stopped and released her from his embrace. He took a step back and began pulling the delicate pins from out of her hair one by one, freeing her long locks, and tossing them onto the table that stood next to them. Though she had looked beautiful that way, he preferred her hair down. Now she looked ethereal, like the Goddess that she was, as her hair flowed down and around her face and falling to her shoulders. He brushed it away from her face and slid one hand through her hair to feel its silkiness. He grasped her by the back of the head tilting her head back gently so he could kiss her on the front of her throat. She closed her eyes and sighed at the warm feeling of his mouth on her skin.

 _Love..._  
_Lust..._  
_Longing..._

These hit them in a wave as he crushed her lips with his and kissed her with wild abandon. He realized then that if he wanted to do this properly they would have to remove their amulets before things spiraled out of control. With great hesitation he pulled himself away from her, slipped his amulet over his head, then placed it onto the table nearby. “Take off your necklace, please,” he instructed her. She looked at him questioningly. “Trust me,” was all he said. She removed her necklace and handed it to him feeling oddly naked without it.

He turned his attention back to her and began to trail soft kisses along her jawline before kissing her slightly parted mouth, tasting her again. Even without his amulet he would have to maintain control, for he wanted to make this evening perfect. He wanted to take his time with her if possible. He looked at her eyes as he slid his hand down her left shoulder to her slender arm and finally came to rest at her waist where the ribbons held her dress together. He slowly undid the top ribbon to give her time to protest if she wanted to, but she merely watched his eyes glittering in the moonlight that shone through the window. Just as slowly he undid the remaining two ribbons. Without the support of the ribbons, the front slid down exposing her left breast and part of her stomach. He moved his hand slowly from her arm to her now exposed side to cup her left breast in his hand. He heard her sigh softly at the warmth of his hand on her.

He leaned down to take it into his mouth. She sighed again at the sudden sensation of his mouth on her as he suckled at her nipple, every once in awhile tugging at it with his teeth causing it to harden between his lips. With his other hand he released her hair from his hand and undid the remaining ribbon that held the dress up at her right shoulder. The entire thing fell down to her hips and her upper body was now completely exposed to him. She was too enthralled to be modest or shy as she felt him cup her other breast in his other hand. They fit perfectly into his hands and were soft beneath his touch. She had been in the prime of her life when the transformation from Mythal had occurred and she would never age, at least not for an extremely long time.

He alternated from one breast to the other with his lips, teasing them into supplication, as he held onto her waist with a free hand. He released her breast from his mouth and stood up tall and looked down into her face again as her eyes fluttered open to look back at him. He slid the hand that was at her waist to her backside pulling her into his embrace curling his other arm around her shoulders. He crushed her body against his and she wrapped her arms around him. He was already hard for her and he knew she could feel it pressing up against her.

He gave her dress a gentle tug and it slid off and onto the floor effortlessly. He kissed her deeply feeling her naked form pressed against him, then held her hand and guided her as she stepped out of the puddle of fabric from the floor that had been her dress. He helped her slip out of her shoes one foot at a time.

He bent down to gather her dress and shoes and deposited them onto a nearby chair. He took a moment to gaze at her now naked body. Her small breasts were perky and perfect for his hands, her nipples like soft, pink petals. Her stomach was smooth and toned, her waist tiny enough to allow him to completely engulf her in his arms. He moved his gaze down to her hips, hips that swelled out gently and tapered down to her long, slender legs. He hadn't seen her this way in a millennium, and she had been dying then, still beautiful but more frail. She was healthy now and it showed all over as if she had filled out since her awakening.

She thought she would feel shy being naked before Solas, but she wasn't. She felt no shame standing before him like this. Quite the opposite, she took pleasure in the hungry way he stared at her body as his eyes roamed over her with an intensity she had not seen since that one time.

He moved in closer then captured both her wrists into one of his hands pulling them up and over her head, the other he placed along her hips. He began kissing her passionately as he guided her backwards until she felt her back come up against the wall. He continued to hold her hands above her head planting them on the wall as well. His mouth on hers was becoming more demanding. As before she parted her mouth for him eagerly and his tongue darted about hungrily as if he was seeking salvation between her parted lips, occasionally biting her lower lip before diving back in again. He pressed himself against her, pinning her body between him and the wall. She could feel the silk of his tunic against her breasts causing her nipples to harden against the fabric. This did not go unnoticed by him as he pressed his arousal against her. She softly moaned into his mouth feeling the warm hardness of him between her legs.

He released her hands and moved back just far enough to be able to untie the lacing of his tunic, never once taking his eyes off of hers. Rowan reached out to help and he allowed her that much. Once she got the laces undone she helped slide his silk tunic up and over his head. He tossed it to the side and onto the floor. She looked at him closely for she had never seen him without a shirt before. He was lean but more muscular than she originally thought he'd be. As a matter of fact he was toned all over, his abdomen a ripple of muscles, his chest chiseled and hairless. She ran a hand over his bare chest and down his abdomen to the laces of his trousers when he stopped her by taking her hand in his.

“Not yet,” he said taking her wrists in his hand again, pinning them to the wall once more. He closed the distance between them slightly, denying her the ability to feel him against her body. He was not ready to be without his trousers. Were that to happen he would foil his own plans and he wanted to take his time tonight pleasuring her in many ways before making love to her.

He looked down into her face as he slid his free hand down her stomach all the way to her womanhood. Gently he cupped it as he had once before, but this time there was no fabric separating his hand from her body. He began to slowly stroke her sex when she moaned and closed her eyes and began moving her hips in tandem to his strokes. He stopped what he was doing but kept his hand where it was. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Open your eyes, Rowan. I want to see the pleasure in them,” he told her. “And if you move, I stop. Understood?”

She opened her eyes and locked onto his. She couldn't seem to find her voice, all she could do was nod her head in agreement. “Good,” he said and then resumed his manipulation of her sex. She was already wet causing his fingers to glide over her with ease. He moved his hand to capture her clitoris between two fingers causing her to moan out loud. She went to close her eyes then remembered that if she did he would stop.

“Very good, Rowan” he said as he saw her fighting off the urge to close her eyes. He saw the heightened sense of arousal in them and it made him even harder. Then he slid one finger between her parting her lips as he went. He slowly slid his finger up and over her, pressing at her opening each time his finger came in contact with it. She moaned each time he did this. He wanted her ready for him despite the fact that she was already wet. She had been a virgin the last time they had made love and he didn't want to hurt her again, and he reveled in the knowledge that no one but him had ever done what he was currently doing and intended to do to her body.

Rowan felt a slight sensation of pressure as Solas slid his finger inside of her waiting sex. He paused long enough for her to get used to the feeling of being filled. Though it was just his finger, he wanted her to know what it would feel like later even though he was much larger than this. Her eyes grew wide with a mixture of surprise and desire so he began to slide it in and back out slowly. He was teasing her intentionally, driving her body mad with pleasure. She could feel how wet he had made her, and the feeling of being penetrated was almost more than she could bear. He was rocking his hand against her pelvis and rubbing her nub with his thumb at the same time as his finger caressed the walls of her sex. Waves of pleasure coursed through her body. She felt that familiar tingling in her loins as his finger slid in and out of her. Though the sensation of being entered and filled had shocked her initially, it felt delicious and she wanted to buck her hips against him but knew he would stop if she did. So she merely stood there eyes locked with his, panting ever so slightly as her face flushed with her approaching orgasm.

Her breaths were becoming ragged and she was looking up at him in sexual desperation. He knew that look well. He realized by the tightening he felt from her sex around his finger that she was approaching an orgasm. Knew what her body was about to do, so he gently withdrew his finger before she could reach her climax and she almost pouted at the emptiness he left her with.

“Now spread your legs.” Although she was confused as to why she complied. Gone was the gentle, sweet Solas; here was the regal, commanding Solas. He looked down at her legs then said, “More.” He placed his hands on her inner thighs to guide her to how far apart he wanted her to be. She now stood with her legs shoulder-width apart giving into his commands.

“Perfect,” he said smiling at her. “You may close your eyes if you wish, or keep them open, but no moving,” he warned her as he placed her hands alongside her legs. He was in control of everything she could or could not do. He ruled over her now, and she gave in without question. It only served to heighten the sensations she was feeling, this inability to have the freedom to move her hips against him when he was toying with her.

He knelt down between her legs and kissed one of her inner thighs. Then he kissed his way up her leg and moved to clamp his mouth over her sex. He suckled her clitoris gently, teasing it with his tongue. Another moan elicited from her mouth, this time louder than before. This was also something he had never done to her, and again it brought him immense pleasure to know he was the first to do so. He was now bringing her pleasure in ways she had never experienced to his delight.

He parted her lips with his thumbs so he could lap at her sex with his tongue, slowly moving from the opening of her sex that awaited him to her nub. Her wetness filled his mouth and he enjoyed the taste of her. Glancing up he saw that she had rolled her head to one side and her eyes were shut. Her breasts heaved as she gasped for air and moaned in pleasure. She had already been close to an orgasm mere minutes ago so he would have to be cautious. He stopped and blew on her sex to cool her off and her body quivered. He took her clitoris in his mouth again flicking it with his tongue. Then he released it and parted her lips again gently so he could press his tongue at her opening.

Again a moan escaped her as he penetrated her with his tongue. He was pressing it into her slowly and the soft heat from his tongue was driving her crazy. It stretched her wider than his finger had. Every so often he would trace his tongue along the length of her sex, then slide his tongue back inside her, then tug at her center of pleasure with his teeth. She didn't know what to make of this new sensation, it was unlike anything she had ever felt. She didn't know what felt better, when he would tug at her clitoris with his teeth, or when his tongue entered her and he made love to her with his mouth? Ripples of her mounting need to climax overloaded her brain and she could no longer think. She was all lust now and nothing existed outside of his mouth on and in her sex.

Sensing that once again her body was nearing an orgasm he slowly came to a stop. He stood up and stripped off his trousers slowly as Rowan opened her eyes and looked at him. Her legs were still parted, fingers digging into the flesh of her legs. She had dug her nails into her own skin without realizing she had done so. Solas stood before her completely stripped of all clothing. Her eyes roamed to his member as it stood up against his stomach as hard as a rock. It looked much larger than she remembered it feeling in her hand, and she wondered if it would hurt being inside her?

He saw the slight hint of fear in her eyes so he dipped his head down and suckled one of her breasts, his sex grazing her leg. Once he felt her relax again he stopped and stepped in closer, pressing his now naked body up against hers. He kissed her roughly and she could taste herself on his mouth. Toying with her body had done nothing to quell his own desires. On the contrary, bringing her to different heights of pleasure only made him need her all the more. He wanted to nothing more than just take her, be inside her, make love to her. He wanted her to need him, to want him. He slid between her sex when he closed the distance between their hips. He felt the warm wetness of her lips enfolding him. It only served to make him crave more.

When Solas pressed his body against her she felt something slide between her sex. She realized it was him, his length pressed up against her and enveloped between the folds of her sex. He began to move his hips in small, gentle strokes teasing her sex with his member, coating himself in her slickness. Her body was ready for him and against everything he had planned he kept pressing his head against her opening every so often trying to resist the temptation to enter her. It was too late, her warmth, her wetness, he needed her now.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on,” he told her. As soon as she had wrapped her arms around his neck for purchase he hoisted her up and planted her firmly against the wall again to keep her in place. He grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He moved his hands to her lower hips and held her tightly. He began searching for the opening of her sex with the head of his cock. When he found it he angled himself at her opening then pressed his forehead to hers and looked her deep in the eyes as he slowly pulled her down onto him. He eased his head inside of her. Despite how wet she was it proved to be difficult. Only having done this once before he knew he would have to enter her gradually as he pulled her down sliding her onto another inch of himself. He stopped to regain some composure. Just feeling her around his head was almost too much for him.

She felt something entering her again and realized that this time it was him as he had slid her down and onto him. She gasped as she felt him enter her. She was unprepared for the assault of dual sensations that rippled throughout her entire body. It was pain mixed with pleasure. He was barely inside her but his girth stretched her opening wide and she wondered briefly if he was going to be able to fit himself within her? As the pain quickly subsided and gave way to pleasure she began to moan begging for more.

As slowly as he could he slid her down onto him further while pushing up with his hips burying another three inches inside of her. It was agony to go so slowly but he wanted to avoid causing her any pain. When she began to move her hips against him in an attempt to capture all of him he knew she was ready for more. He would lift her up ever so slightly then pull her back down onto him so he could fill her with him a little bit at a time. He was now buried halfway inside of her and she gasped and moaned every time he lifted her up and slid her back down. This time he pulled her down onto him all the way while simultaneously pushing deep into her until his entire length was buried within her eager body. He had now had all seven inches of himself completely inside her tiny frame. She was stretched around him, warm and wet, his manipulations on her body had made the passage easier on them both yet she was still tight, and her sex gripped him firmly.

He just stood there for a moment, forehead pressed to hers, staring into her eyes. He was the one gasping now as he was awash in the pleasure of being physically bonded with her and at the sensation of his cock being completely encased by her sex. He didn't dare move or he would lose control and just take her up against the wall. No, he still wanted to have her in the bed. He intended to carry her this way, the two interlocked with each other, if he could manage it.

Rowan was completely filled and stretched to the brim. She thought it would hurt but it was a pain that had melted away quickly as he just stood there with him buried in her. Slowly her body adjusted to accommodate him, stretching around him blissfully, and she moaned at the sensation of being filled. Her hips began to grind up against him slowly, for that was the only movement she could perform as she was still pinned against the wall. She clamped her legs tighter around his waist and undulated her pelvis against his. The sensations of riding him rocked her body and he growled deep in his throat.

“Rowan, please don't,” Solas begged of her. He couldn't give in, not now, not yet. But she didn't seem to hear him and she kept grinding her hips against his, rocking them back and forth, crashing into his body. She was pressing her breasts against his chest and burying her face in his neck as she held on tighter and continued to ride him in unabashed passion. He tried grabbing her hips tighter to stop her but instead found himself simultaneously pulling her deeper onto him as well as thrusting himself up and into her. He was getting lost in her the feeling of having her, their hips crashing together, the friction of her being manipulated onto his cock. She moaned again louder and her hips were grinding harder now as he pulled her down onto him again and again. He couldn't think beyond this; being inside her, feeling her surrounding him, and the sweet sensation of her sex massaging his. His body responded to hers with a mind of its own as he gave way to both their desires.

He realized that he was about to cum and he fought against it. That's when he lifted her up and off of him, even though he wished for nothing more than to just finish inside her right then and there. He was coated in her wetness and his cock twitched a little at the orgasm he nearly had. He was grateful that they weren't wearing their amulets or they both would have finished.

She pouted a little. Was he going to deny her all night? Had she done something wrong? Before she could protest he lifted her into his arms and began carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently on the fur pelts then climbed in with her and knelt at her legs. She merely looked up at him, her face flushed, her nipples hardened. He took her legs and bent them ever so slightly, then parted them wide enough to allow him access between them. He moved up her body resting the head of his now engorged member at her opening. He kissed her deeply as she placed her arms around his neck.

He began rubbing his head against her opening causing her to lift her hips up off the bed in an attempt to capture him inside of her. He was teasing her again, getting him ready for what he was about to do. He grazed her left ear with his teeth then moved his mouth down her neck to nip at her flesh. Finally he kissed the nape of her neck where it met her shoulder. She wasn't prepared for what came next as he entered her roughly in one swift motion, impaling her onto him entirely. Simultaneously he bit down hard on her neck slightly piercing flesh. He was marking her as he laid still enjoying the intense feeling of being back inside her, buried to the hilt. She gasped in surprise at his sudden taking of her. This was not the gentle easing he had performed previously. He had entered her without warning, shoving himself all the way inside of her roughly.

She was his. She belonged to him completely now as he heard her cry out beneath him.

She cried out in pleasure as he had entered her sharply. Again she felt stretched and filled as he laid there with his mouth clamped on her neck, his teeth digging into her flesh. He was claiming her as she began lifting her hips up off the bed to feel more of him inside her. He pulled out almost all the way before rapidly thrusting back in deeply, burying himself inside her again. Once again he pulled out almost all the way and then slammed himself back inside her pushing her body deep into the mattress. He did this several more times pushing her body into the mattress each time he entered her completely. He emitted a low growl with each stroke as her nails dug into his back and her hips rocked up against him meeting his thrusts with her own.

Finally he lifted himself up onto his elbows so he could watch her as he claimed her. As he felt her first orgasm wash over her he pinned her body to the bed with his and sped up his movements, pushing her over the edge, driving himself deep into her over and over in rapid succession. Her moans were coming faster now when he felt her sex clamping down onto him tightly and her whole body stiffen. He buried himself in her all the way to the hilt and relished in the feeling of her orgasm around his shaft. He stopped only long enough to allow her to collect herself before he started sliding himself in and out of her again, awakening her body with slower strokes this time.

He placed his forehead upon hers as he had before so he could stare at her face as she got lost in the pleasure he brought her. Slowly she began moaning again as her body responded to him, and she began undulating her hips in a sensual rhythm meeting his long strokes with her hips. He took his time at first squeezing one of her breasts gently but firmly with a free hand and grazing his teeth along her earlobes and the sides of her neck. He nipped at her lower lip and reveled in the way she felt gripped around him as he slid in and out of her. Her tightness around him was intoxicating. She was hot inside from her previous orgasm, and her juices flowed out of her and onto him each time he withdrew slightly before pushing himself back into her hungry sex.

She arched her back and began rocking her hips into him harder and he knew what she wanted. He increased his speed and thrust in and out of her roughly again, taking her, claiming her, making her his, holding her down and impaling her onto his cock with his hips. He knew that when she came again he would not be able to hold back this time. So he wrapped one of her legs around his waist giving him better access so he could push himself deeper into her. He was driving into her faster now and groaned with a deep growl in his throat as she arched her back again and wrapped both her legs around his waist as her orgasm swept over her and through her causing her sex to squeeze down on him in quick but firm pulses.

The feel of her sex gripping him like a vise made him pump his cock into her even faster until he felt himself throbbing deep inside of her on the edge of his own orgasm as hers continued to squeeze him in waves. With one last, long stroke he drove himself home burying himself completely. His orgasm shook him to the core as he came deep inside her, his hot seed spilling out in waves. She came even harder when he did this, and her sex milked him causing his orgasm to ride with hers. With a few more gentle strokes they finished together.

Both now spent he collapsed on top of her, their sweat mingling with each others. They were both panting and he remained inside her, still erect. She was clutching at the sheets and had turned them into a tangled mess in her tiny fists when she had came. He leaned his weight onto one elbow and gently brushed away a lock of hair from her face. She opened her eyes, her body still quivering all over. She was glowing and smiled up at him. She unlocked her legs from his waist slowly and relaxed her shaking legs against his hips.

He looked at the bite-mark on her neck. “I apologize,” he said in mock sympathy. “I seemed to have gotten carried away and left a mark on you.” He smiled and traced his finger on the bite-mark.

She beamed up at him. “No need to apologize, I rather enjoyed it,” she admitted.

“I can make it go away,” he offered though he didn't want to.

“No,” she said. “Leave it please. I don't mind. Besides, I do believe I've left my mark on your back,” she said with a wicked grin.

"And I," he replied, "rather enjoyed _that_."

He felt himself stirring inside her again, though he had never lost his erection in the first place. He kissed her gently intertwining his fingers with hers and slowly moved inside her. He kept this up until he felt her passion for him igniting again and he began making love to her. This time he was gentle and thoughtful of her needs, unlike the primal and wild abandon that had just previously occurred. He took his time with her body slowly so she would know the sweetness and joy of being worshiped in bed like she deserved. He brought her to orgasm several times until finally he felt she could take no more and then he came inside her one final time. When they were done he rolled over onto his back and gathered her into his arms.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan” he said to her kissing her forehead.

“I love you, too, Solas,” she replied sleepily as she rested her head on his chest, her arm draped over him, and shut her eyes. She was the happiest she could ever remember being at that moment. Nothing else in her life mattered right then except the two of them.

He pulled the fur pelts over their bodies and stroked her hair as she fell asleep, her head resting on his chest. That night was the second happiest moment in his life. It wasn't about the sex, it was about them finally being together. He refused to allow anyone or anything to come between them.

He was with his Rowan, his Bride Queen, and nothing would tear them apart ever again.


	16. Between Two Women

Rowan awoke to find herself in the bed alone. Solas must have woken up early, or she had slept in, for he was already dressed and standing at the window staring out of it. His hands were clasped behind his back. Last night was the first time she woke up without having had a nightmare. She sat up in bed and noticed that there was a dress hanging up for her on the wall, one she had never seen before. Had he also bought this for her? Was it another gift from him? She got out of bed and slipped on her robe. She didn't bother with tying it closed, she felt no need for modesty around him any longer. Not after last night. She found she was more than a little sore all over from the previous evening, including her neck where he had bitten her, but it was a pain she didn't mind. Not in the slightest. She smiled and wondered if she could coax him back into bed one more time?

She walked over to the wall where the dress hung and inspected it. It was beautiful, more than the ones she had seen yesterday. As a matter of fact it didn't look like any of the ones she had seen yesterday which made her curious. It was made of some form of soft fabric and was white like her hair. Silver embroidery adorned the dress at the breast-line, the cuffs of the sleeves, as well as the hem. It was beautiful and something about it gave her a sense of Déjà vu. She had seen this dress before but couldn't recall where. The Deep Roads or at Mothers, perhaps? She would try it on later, she decided. She looked around and noticed that he had also tidied up the room. Last night's dress was folded up neatly with the shoes and hair pins sitting on top of it alongside the garb they had provided for him. Her necklace laid out delicately on the table. She ignored it for now, it could wait. Right now she just wanted to talk to him, be near him, but he seemed to be deep in thought given the expression on his face from what she could see. If he had noticed she had awoken he gave no indication.

“This is beautiful," she said in regards to the dress on the wall. "Did you buy this last night or this morning?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I've... had it for quite some time and have been waiting for the right moment to give it to you,” he said turning to her smiling. “Today seemed like the perfect day to give it to you.” It was her dress from the Garden, and though not suited for traveling, he hoped to see her in it for at least a little bit today. Perhaps they would stay one more evening if it pleased her? He had given the ring to her last night but wanted to also give her an Elven wedding if she would have him. He had already made arrangements in case she said yes. He didn't dare presume that she would, but he was fairly certain that she wouldn't turn him away. Regardless of whether or not what he intended to do today worked, he wanted make her his Bride once again. He frowned immediately at the thought that today could go terribly wrong then banished the idea.

Rowan went over to the window where he stood and reached up to kiss him on the lips. He hesitated ever so slightly before returning the kiss, but it was enough for her to take notice. She pulled away slowly and looked at his face. He seemed troubled by something, or deep in thought, and she dreaded to think of what it could be. Something was wrong and she hoped it wasn't about last night. No, it couldn't be, otherwise why the dress then? Last night had been perfect and she didn't want it ruined. Whatever was going on they would work through it together, she told herself.

“Solas, what's troubling you?” she asked him tying her robe closed.

“I... it's nothing. I was just thinking is all,” he said looking at the dress draped over the chair.

“Look at me, Solas," she said gently turning his chin so that he would face her. "You know you can tell me anything, so tell me the truth. I deserve that much at least.” He sighed for she was correct, she deserved that much from him today.

“I was just... How much do you remember?” he asked her.

“I remember everything about last night, why?” It had been an odd question for him to ask, and she was still waking up to make heads or tails as to what he meant by it. He was getting at something and she dreaded as to what. She briefly wondered if he was about to push her away again as before, but no, that couldn't be it. The ring, the dress? It couldn't possibly be it. No, this was something else. It had to be.

“Is there anything else you remember, anything at all?" he asked her. "Anything... new perhaps?” He looked into her eyes for a glimmer of hope, anything to go on today; the slightest hint of recognition, even a name or a word would suffice, but there seemed to be nothing. At least not yet. He sighed.

“What is this about, Solas?” He was looking at her oddly and she didn't know what to make of it. “Solas, if this is about my memories I already suspected there was something between us before,” she said. “That's why Mother sent you and not someone else, isn't it?”

“That is only part of the truth.” He turned to face the window again. “There are things you should know, and it's best that I tell them to you now,” he said solemnly.

“What things, and why now?” Something was certainly wrong, she thought as he simply stared out the window. For a minute she thought he wasn't going to answer her but then he did. It wasn't quite the answer she expected, either.

“Before we go any further I need to make certain I tell you everything that I can. I don't wish to repeat certain mistakes again,” he said simply. The happy and romantic Solas from last night was gone. Here was the sullen Solas, and she knew that voice and posture all too well. Something was troubling him and with his hands clasped behind his back meant he was resigning himself to something.

“What mistake? Do you mean last night?” she asked him.  _Was_ he going to push her away again? She hoped not, she couldn't go back to pretending as if nothing had happened. It would break her. She started to become worried, her anxiety and fear rising. He could see her panicking and quickly responded.

“No, that is not it at all. Yet there are things... things about the past that I need you to know the truth of," he said finally turning back around facing her. "There are ... _situations_... that I cannot bear to have repeated. Please, sit,” he motioned to an empty chair. She sat down in her robe but he remained standing at the window as he began.

“A long time ago, right before the Great Calamity, when Humans still roamed the world, another catastrophe had occurred,” he began. “A young Elven woman got caught in the middle of things, but not by her own doing. There was a great explosion that killed hundreds of people, you see,” he spoke slowly, watching her to ensure he didn't trigger her amnesia. He would have to go about this delicately and avoid certain words and phrases.

“Somehow she was the sole survivor but, as with you, she couldn't recall what had happened or how she alone survived. She was captured by a group of Humans who blamed her for what they thought she had done though she was innocent. She was locked up and reviled, branded a traitor, a murderer. An Elf, they believed, who had slain hundreds of people alongside one of their most Holiest members and many leaders. That's what the people believed about her in the beginning, at least.” He continued to look at her intently, watching her reactions, reading her face. At the first hint of pain he would be forced to stop. He wasn't even certain this was going to work, but he had to try.

“Eventually,” he continued while she merely listened on, “they were convinced that she was not capable of causing such an explosion. She was a Mage, yes, but not one powerful enough to cause something so powerful. In fact no Mage alive could have done that without... help.” He continued to search her face again for any sign of pain or recognition but found neither. She simply sat in the chair, listening closely.

“They freed her but kept them with her for reasons I cannot explain to you. She was... _special_ and they needed her. They believed she was delivered to them by their prophet and God to be a hero meant to lead them to victory against the threat that the world faced. In a sense they were not wrong for only she could...” he trailed off. No, he couldn't go that far, he thought. There was no way to go about describing the Anchor, something she had already dreamt about. “Anyhow, she had gone from being a reviled prisoner to their blessed hero.”

“Solas, what is this all about, and how does this have anything to do with us?” She was perplexed. She was fully aware that he was telling her this for a reason, and it pertained to them, but just couldn't see how. She waited for his answer. She was certain he had a perfectly good explanation for her.

“Because this is a part of history that cannot repeat itself. Please, just listen,” he asked of her.

“The Humans founded an army of the faithful, and slowly she rose up in the ranks until eventually they declared her their leader. An Elf as the leader of a Human army? It was unheard of in those times, yet they revered and respected her and so that's what she became, what they made her into. This served to only fuel their faith that she had been sent to lead them out of darkness and into victory as well as a new era of peace. But it was a peace that would not last, sadly.”

And no, it had not. He had waited, watching, hoping Rowan had been right that the world was worth saving, but she had been wrong. Terribly wrong... The world had all too quickly forgotten the peace she had brought to them. Wars resumed and the red lyrium was just as much of a threat as ever. It could never be truly eliminated, and once word had spread of the power it could yield, the Mages in Tevinter began taking it despite its risks. Blood sacrifices had become all too common, and attempts to enter the Fade in the flesh were attempted from ancient manuscripts he had believed long gone and forgotten. He lost many spirit friends in the Fade from ritual bindings, perverted from their nature and turned into demons. What came next, his plans, were almost as damning, but to him they had doomed themselves.

Yet there had been her, the only thing that had been worth saving. She was the potential that the world could have been all wrapped up into one soul. Perhaps that's why he had fallen for her? Whatever the reason it was irrelevant now. She had captured his heart all those years ago and still had it to this very day, and what he had done was completed. He had stripped away the veil and allowed the world to burn in the ensuing chaos.

He smiled at her then, thinking back on the beginning of their time together. He was proud of who she was and who she had been. “She was fierce and strong,” he said smiling brightly, “Smart and capable, as well as compassionate and wise. She... fell in love,” he said looking into Rowan's eyes and a sullen look came over his face. “But the person she fell in love with could not be with her the way that she wanted him to be. He was... not who he pretended to be. He was... _more_. Fen'Harel was his other name, but this she did not know. He was also known by others as the Dread Wolf. That is what his enemies called him, a name meant to be an insult, and that was one of the reasons why he thought he could not tell her the truth of who he really was. Do those names mean anything to you?” he asked her.

“Of course, he was one of the old Elven Gods,” she stated. Was this a memory or just knowledge she had retained? No, she had not retained any memories of even the world she once lived in. Yet she remembered HIM. This only served to spark hope in him, hope that if he continued she would remember more so he went on with the story.

“Yes, and that was who he truly was. He, in turn, fell in love with her. Though he loved her, he came to feel that he was betraying her trust in omitting the truth about himself. He also believed that she could not possibly accept the reality of who and what he really was, nor forgive him for this deception. So in the end, when their enemy was defeated, he left thus leaving her behind. For the catastrophe that had occurred was partially his fault for reasons I cannot explain.” He frowned thinking back on that day, the day he left Skyhold and then leaving her once again at the Crossroads.

“Somehow she stumbled on the truth of.. everything," he resumed. "And despite all his betrayal she still loved him and wanted to be with him, so she sought him out. Eventually she found him, but by the time she had she was dying from the illness that was caused by the explosion. And he, as foolish as ever, thought he could help her.”

“Why are you telling me this?” If there was a moral to the story she wasn't seeing it. "I still don't understand, Solas."

“Because you deserve to know what truths I can tell you. I do not wish to make those mistakes with you. Your amnesia won't allow me to tell you about myself or us. But you have already guessed correctly that there was something between us. Perhaps you could guess other things and I could tell you whether or not you are correct? It is the only way I can think of to work around your amnesia. I don't wish to deceive you as she had been deceived. I want you to know the truth.”

“Deceive me how?” she asked cocking her head to the side.

“I had hoped that last night would help you remember... us,” he said in a hushed tone.

“And you wanted me to listen to this story and what... make guesses?" she asked.

"Yes, perhaps then you will learn the truth even if you won't be able to remember it." She was truly puzzled now. How did that story have anything to do with her or them? And what did he want her to guess about? A question popped into her head suddenly.

"You're the reason I can't remember anything, aren't you?” Apparently her question took him by surprise, as if it was not what he had been expecting, and it wasn't. His shoulders fell into a slump and the excitement washed off his face abruptly. Though he knew the answer was incriminating, he refused to lie to her.

“I am partially to blame, yes,” he admitted. And he was. Had it not been for him giving Corypheus his orb none of this would have happened to her, or if he had just spent more time on a cure than fighting The Others then Mythal would not have needed to do what had been done to save her.

“Wait, you mean to say you are? What did you do to me?” What _had_ he done to her, and if he was responsible then why could he not undo it? What role had he played in damning her to this hell she was now cursed with? The idea angered her. To think that the man that claimed to love her was partially responsible, as he had put it. On top of it to play the role of lover to her. It made her think of something else and she almost dreaded to hear the answer to her next question.

“You're one of Them, aren't you?" She didn't need him to speak a word, the look on his face gave away the truth. "Mother _died_ because of you! You claim to love me but you weren't there when I awoke, she was. And so she died, for _me_. And that's why They hunt you and you hunt Them, because you are one of Them. That's how you survived when Mother did not.” The pain on her face spoke volumes, she now blamed him for Flemeth's death, which he had to take partial responsibility for as well. Had he only found a cure then Mythal would still have been with Flemeth and she might have lived. She had lost the woman she knew as Mother because of him. "Tell me!  _Are_ you one of Them?" she flung the question at him.

“I cannot answer that,” he replied looking back out the window to avoid the look on her face. She had stumbled onto the truth and all he could feel was a profound sense of pain and regret, he would never be able to forgive himself for the death of Flemeth.

“And you... of all people... did this to me." She was not only in pain, she was furious now. She stood up from her seated position. "How could you?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “What is this, Solas? Some grandiose attempt to provoke my mind into unlocking memories?” she asked standing between him and the window now, forcing him to face her.

“I hoped it would be possible,” he admitted. He looked at her and saw the tears in her eyes as well as the flames of anger rising within them.

“So was that what last night was all about?” she asked him choking back the tears that threatened to stream down her face. How had things gone so terribly wrong so quickly, he wondered? He needed to try to steer her back to his original intentions, to begin guessing at the truths he had shared with her.

“Not at all. Last night was just you and I. Nothing more, I promise you.” He went to caress her cheek and she shrugged him off. What she said next pained him to hear.

“I don't believe you. No, you hoped that by bedding me I would regain my memories. Admit it.” She hurled the words at him while tightening her hands into fists at her side. She was beginning to shake with the overwhelming emotions she was now feeling.

“That wasn't it at all. Yet the first time we kissed you remembered Skyhold. I was only hoping it would be the same today. Nothing more.” He didn't need her to be wearing her amulet to tell him what she was feeling, her emotions were now radiating off of her like a wave of heat. And he was lucky she was not wearing it to feed them back onto him.

“What about this?” she asked lifting her hand that held the ring. “And telling me that you loved me? Was that also a part of your plan?” She was allowing her anger to get the best of her, he realized. Gone was the sadness, the idea that he had already deceived her before, and possibly used her last night in another deception, was all she could focus on.

“Rowan, there was no plan,” he said as tenderly as he could. There was a slight quiver in his voice now. He hadn't meant for any of this, and he certainly didn't want her to believe that last night was some vain attempt to spark her memories. “I love you regardless of whether you remember or not. I have always loved you. Trust me, there was no plan. Not until this morning.” And that was the truth, whether she accepted it as such or not he couldn't gauge.

She didn't say anything, she simply glared at him, the fire in her eyes pierced his heart. That's when she shifted her attention to more dangerous territory for him. He would be forced to answer to this regardless of what it might cost him.

“What about this so-called champion woman? Who was she to you? Was she the woman you talked about before at camp, the one you were in love with?” She demanded to know the truth about this woman. He would tell her whether he wanted to or not, she thought.

“Yes she was, but if you only would just listen...” he began pleading with her but she cut him off.

“I have been listening,” Her mind was on a single track now that even she couldn't control. Her anger spiraling into a dark pit of blackness she couldn't climb out of. “You still love her, don't you?” she asked him.

“I... yes” He realized now the mistake he had made in telling her the story. He had hoped she would have figured out that he had been talking about her all along, but it had escaped her. Her jealousy and anger had washed away all sense and reason she might have otherwise had.

“You said you lost her but you lied. She still lives, doesn't she?” She wanted to know if this woman he loved, that he had told her he had lost, still lived. She would get the truth out of him one way or another, she thought.

He didn't want to answer this question, it would condemn him further in her eyes and serve only to make things worse. If he thought that he could make her forget the entire morning he would cast a spell right then, and if her emotions weren't so out of control it might have been possible. Then she would be waking up in bed again none the wiser, and he would know then not to venture here. He would know to just let the matter rest, but he knew that no spell he could cast would work, it would prove to be an impossible task. No, he would have to continue to try to reason with her, if that were possible at this junction.

“Yes, she does but-” she raised her hand and cut him off. “But what, Solas? Where do I fit into this story of yours? If you still love her how can you love me as well?”

“If you would only allow me to explain.”

“Explain what, Solas?” she asked. “That I fell for the same lie that was told in your story? What are you hiding from me?” He was pleading with her again but she didn't want to hear it. There was nothing left to explain. She had heard enough. She stormed away from him to stand in the center of the room looking for her pack. She wanted to get dressed and just storm out.

“You don't understand, the story is about you _and_ her.”

“I don't want to hear about her!” Rowan yelled. The fireplace lit up in a roar of flames, the lanterns on the walls and the candles on the tables, all aflame from her outburst of pure, unadulterated anger. Waves of anger radiating off of her. It dawned on him then that the time in camp he thought she was using cantrips on him when they were practicing emotions, but that was not the case. She was the living embodiment of the full range of emotions, not just love as he originally thought. And Rowan appeared oblivious to what was happening in the room. She was blinded by this outburst of rage that had claimed her.

No, she was all of them and had not had time in which to learn to harness her powers. Never in all the time had he known her had he seen her this way. Not even close. She was never quick to anger, never known for jealousy. The woman that stood before him now was a stranger. He needed to find a way to diffuse the situation and quickly. There was no telling what she was capable of, and they were still in Lithranil. He wondered how this was affecting the Elves in town? She seemed completely oblivious to what she was doing. She was pure, unadulterated, raw emotion. What else lurked beneath the surface, he wondered? Was it just Rowhanna or did some lingering essence of Mythal's rage from her own betrayal and desire for justice yet linger? If that were the case then what else had she inherited from Mythal?

Just as quickly as the fires had been ignited they died out. Now she looked like the defeated one. A gentle rain began to fall outside as he heard it beating against the glass as she slowly sat back down in the chair.

"Rowan," he said softly, "I promise that I did not conceive of this idea until this morning. I need you to believe that much at least." His own tears threatened to run down his face now and he choked them back. How had it come to this? He couldn't lose her, not again. He could only hope that this was temporary.

“At least tell me that you love me more than you love her, Solas. I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it...” Her voice trailed off. Her anger had shifted back to pain and there it was, the heart of the matter. The core of her anger. She believed something that was not true, but he could not tell her this. How could he possibly tell her that they were one and the same? He remained silent, there was nothing he could say to satisfy her at this point, and the rain. Something about the rain...

“You can't, can you?” She looked up at him, the tears flowing freely upon her face now as her heart gave way to the torment in her heart. It was more of a statement than it was a question. This other woman would always be important to him, probably more important than she was to him. “You can't have us both, Solas. It's not... possible.” She now felt nothing more than an overwhelming sense of depression. She saw tears in his eyes that reflected her own, but it didn't matter now. He couldn't say it and she knew it. So it was true, he loved her more. How could they possibly be together now? They couldn't. Not when she knew there was another woman in his heart that she could never replace, never compare to.

“Vhenan...” was all he could manage to say. That was answer enough in her heart.

“Not now, Solas.” She said feeling crushed. “I wish to get dressed, alone, if you don't mind. I need to... think.”


	17. The Dead Lands

Solas left the room and stood in the hall for a moment. He could hear Rowan weeping inside so decided that instead of lingering about in the hall by the door he would give her some more space. He would go into town to see how, if at all, her emotions had affected the Elves. So far there was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see, so he dipped into a couple of shops. Things seemed to be business as usual and he wasn't certain what he was looking for, perhaps nothing at all. He needed to think as well; think on how he could go about obtaining her forgiveness, so for the time being he just roamed in and out of shops. He briefly considered another gift for her, but there was no gift he could purchase that would please her enough into absolving him in her mind because she was not the materialistic type to begin with, to top it off he was also unaccustomed to picking out things such as gifts.

Meanwhile Rowan weeped for what seemed like an eternity alone. After some time she dried her tears and steeled her resolve. She would head for this Skyhold on her on, consequences be damned. She put on her new traveling clothes, clothes he must have purchased either yesterday or earlier this morning. All black cloth and leather tailored to perfectly fit her. They were comfortable and would hold up in any weather conditions. She slipped on her boots then sat back down thinking. She needed to be alone for a bit and would steal away if possible. She knew he would find her eventually, there was no way she would make it all the way to Skyhold before he caught up to her, but she was determined to sneak out of town before he noticed her absence if she was capable of it.

She spied the sack of food on the floor and took some rations from it placing them into her own pack. She also folded up the dresses and shoved them into her pack as well. She removed the ring he had given to her the previous evening and left it sitting on the table where her necklace was. What had he hoped to gain with the ring, she wondered? She had been such a fool to think that it actually meant something to him. That _she_ meant something to him. She had believed then, rather childishly in her mind, that he would perhaps propose to her this morning. _The first to leave, the first to wed,_ she recalled one of the girls saying last night... Foolish, she thought as she picked up her necklace and placed it over her head. She immediately regretted doing so as raw emotions came crashing down on her like thunder:

 _Remorse..._  
_Regret..._  
_Grief..._

She quickly removed it and placed it inside a side pouch at her hip. She didn't want or need to be even more overwhelmed with emotions on top of her own at this point in time, and those in particular made her suspect what she had begun to guess all along; that they weren't hers to begin with. No, they were _his_. Somehow her necklace reflected his emotions onto her and she wondered if his did the same but in reverse? Another lie he had told to her regardless of her amnesia. The circumstances of the lie she no longer cared about, if he had wanted to play guessing games he could have started back at camp with that. The only conclusion that made sense to her was that he had been the one to give her the necklace with its amulet. She didn't even want to think about why he would have given her such an item although it itched at her brain at first; A memory threatening to attempt to break through the surface. Normally she will be thrilled at the prospect, but not today, she didn't have time. No, she needed to remain focused so she pushed it to the back of her mind as she had done with so many other things as of late.

Now if only she could manage to exit the room and the tavern without him spying her... She eyed the sole window that was in the room and peered out of it. It faced out the back of the tavern and was just the right size for her to slip out of, all she had to do was throw her staff and pack out first. This way she could avoid the main tavern in the advent that Solas awaited for her there. She opened the window and tossed her pack and staff out of it and they landed gently on the ground. They were only one floor up so she was able to land with capable proficiency as she climbed out and jumped. She had jumped from trees much higher up than this. She picked up her belongings and peered around the corner slowly as she looked about for Solas. He was nowhere to be seen. There was a gentle rain blanketing Lithranil which gave her the opportunity to shroud herself in her cloak as she pulled her hood up over her head. She would have to be careful as he could be within any of the shops or exit the tavern at any moment.

She had enough rations, but she was craving fresh berries and milk and would need to eat on her way out of town. As with Solas yesterday she was finding that no one was willing to accept any trades from, their wares they offered for free but she refused. For the food she whipped out her book and drew a picture of the vendors daughter and insisted that he take it in exchange for the milk and berries. Apparently she was all too recognizable. Still she pressed the vendor in taking the portrait of his daughter from her. He marvelled at his daughter's likeness and for Rowan it had been an easy enough task to render the girl's likeness onto the parchment as her morning scribbles had given her plenty of practice.

Rowan then made her way carefully to the dress shop and approached the woman that had been at the vendor table the day before where she had been shoved about like a doll. “Here, I wish to return this dress to you as well as the slippers. Oh and these hairpins. If you could kindly accept this dress in exchange I would be most grateful.” She pulled out the items she had worn yesterday from her pack and offered the one Solas had given to her as an exchange. She hoped that the female would accept without too much of a fuss.

“Oh My Lady!” the Elven female said aghast as if slightly offended. “I cannot possibly except such a fine gift!” She ran her fingers over the soft texture and the gilded silver embroidery. "No, I can not!" the female said trying to shove the dress back into Rowan's arms shaking her head. Rowan refused to accept it and placed it back onto the counter. "Please, you must. I have many such others of its like," she lied. Reluctantly the female took the dress from her. “If it doesn't please you then give it to the Bride as a gift from me,” and she walked out before the female could protest any further.

 _Now,_ she thought, _I only need a mount_. She carefully approached the stalls to speak to the stable master. “Pardon me, but I need a mount. Something that is mountain worthy; Sturdy and hardy, something that can withstand cold climates,” she said as nonchalantly as possible. The older male looked at her, and upon recognizing her he smiled.

“My Lady, your steed is already purchased for you. Your male companion chose them yesterday,” he said with with a wide grin.

“Oh, thank you." So he had prepared for them to leave already? This made it easier for her as she did not know what she would have to be able to trade for a steed. "Can you have it readied for me, please? I wish to leave now.”

“So soon?" he asked. She merely smiled at him as best she could. "I'll ready it for you now," he said excitedly. "Shall I fetch your companion? I believe he's in the alchemist's shop,” the stable master asked politely.

“No,” she insisted, “that won't be necessary. I'm rather in a hurry. He'll catch up.” She wanted to put as much distance between them as possible right now. She was in no mood to face him. Not yet. Not for at least another day if she could make it that far. And he would catch up eventually. Not to mention she couldn't ignore him forever, but she would tackle that problem when the time arrived.

“I'll fetch your mount now,” he said rushing off. He returned with a sturdy Frostback Elk, at least that was what her mind called this particular Hart. It was majestic and large, white with faint gray stripes and great antlers. It would be capable of carrying her a great distance before needing to rest as well as be capable of withstanding the colder, harsh climates as she reached the mountain ranges that would come between her and Skyhold. She made haste in attaching her belongings to it and mounted the Elk. With one hand she took the reigns and headed out calmly so as not to attract too much attention.

The drizzle in Lithranil came to a slow stop as she left the through the front enclosure, though she paid it no mind. She steered her mount eastward, for that was the direction she needed to head towards. She had memorized the passages she would have to take in order to get to Skyhold when Solas had shown her the way on his map, and she wanted to put as much time between them as she could. She just needed to avoid the scorched lands and gently guide her elk past the more narrow areas near them.

Before breaking into a gallop she took her necklace from her pouch and tossed it onto the ground in her haste. She no longer wanted it. She wanted to leave her past behind her, at least until she could recover her memories. She already suspected that he had been the one to give it to her in the first place and it was just one more reminder of him. After all it was just a magical necklace she didn't really care to have with her presently. Not to mention if her hypothesis was correct she didn't need it warning Solas of her emotions nor her intentions. She would contend with him if and when he caught up with her. She pushed the morning argument from her mind and focused on heading eastward as fast as the Frostback could carry her.

She had been riding for nearly an hour when she came upon a sharp bend around the side of a large hill. She and her mount came to a sudden halt as they turned. The scorched earth greeted her just around the corner. It was just as he had described it; black with veins of red that omitted a foul smell. It seemed almost alive, glowing and pulsating. Still, there was a narrow patch of grass between the hill and the corrupt soil, more than enough for them to pass, especially if she steered her mount up the hill more. She tried to urge the Frostback to take a step closer but it refused to budge despite her best efforts. It was trembling all over, its nostrils flared, and kept attempting to back away from where it stood. Its natural instinct was to back away from the land but she fought against it. The Frostback began to buck and rear, tossing her off and onto the ground, and then it took several cautious steps away from the foul earth leaving her where she lay.

She hit her head hard and hoisted herself up without thinking. She felt a burning sensation on the palm of her left hand as she did.  _No, oh no, no, no!_ she thought frantically. Her left hand that she had used to raise herself to a standing position, as well as the material of her glove, had been burned ever so slightly by the ground. The leather had been burned away exposing the flesh of her palm to the soil. She had actually come in contact with the tainted ground. She recalled what Solas had said happened to Elves and creatures that came in contact with it, they either died or went mad. That's when she looked down and realized she was standing on it as well, not to mention there were several other patches on her left side that had also been exposed. She took several quick steps back in alarm. It was too late, she thought, she had already come into contact with it. She panicked as she stepped back onto the grass quickly before it melted through her boots. Her skin that had been exposed was a puffy red that felt like it was on fire. Death or madness now awaited her if Solas was to be believed. She slumped up against the grassy knoll in dismay. The Frostback was idly nibbling on some grass, it had not run off like she expected it to have, it just maintained a safer and more comfortable distance from the scorched land. How could she have been so foolish, she wondered?

She sat there for awhile contemplating her situation. Would she die or go mad? He had not said how long death would take but she suspected that it would have been immediate. No, she would certainly go mad and have to be put down like some rabid animal. Would she be able to take her own life when the time came, she wondered? As she sat she noticed something peculiar when she looked back at the ground where she had landed. The ground appeared to be healing. The charred land was giving way to healthy soil and grass shoots began to erupt from it. She stood up staring at it curiously. She knew what she was about to do next was suicide, but she was doomed anyhow so where was the harm? She stepped onto the fresh soil then placed a foot onto the scorched ground in front of it. Spontaneously the earth began to heal. Her curiosity got the better of her so she began taking another step and the same thing occurred. Wherever she stepped the land seemed to heal. How was this even possible? She turned back to face the Frostback, if she could make the passage wide enough they could reach the other side safely. Perhaps its reaction to her was normal and Solas had left that part out? Whatever the case she would widen the path so that the Frostback would crest around the hill. It was the only way, especially now.

“Well, well... What have we here?” A woman's voice rang out behind her. The voice was sultry and enigmatic. Rowan turned to see an Elven woman with jet black hair, wearing a burgundy dress, walking down what seemed to be invisible steps until she reached the freshly healed soil. She had yellow eyes and lips the same shade of burgundy as her dress. She didn't dress like the Elves of Lithranil had. No hers was more reminiscent of the ones Mother had made for her, save that this one had feathers attached at one shoulder.

“Who are you?” Rowan asked as she peered at her cautiously. She was a Mage, her display of power had already proven that much, but she didn't recall seeing her in the town.

“You may call me Morrigan,” she said with a smile. “And what a curious creature you are,” she said eyeing Rowan up and down. “If it isn't the fabled Herald of Andraste herself, the mighty Inquisitor, the great champion against Corypheus,” she said dramatically, swaying her hips as she walked up to Rowan.

“I don't know what you are talking about, I'm no Herald of anything, no Inquisitor, and certainly no champion,” Rowan replied. She must have her mistaken for someone else. But that name, Corypheus, hadn't she drawn him in her book? Hadn't he appeared in many of her nightmares? Mere coincidence and nothing more, she told herself.

“Oh but once you were... a thousand years ago, leading the army of the faithful against Corypheus and ultimate destruction, uniting the Humans in peace. And now it appears that you are a fledgling Goddess and the legendary Bride of Fen'Harel himself," she said with a smirk. "What, I wonder, did your husband do to be able to turn a mortal woman such as yourself into a Goddess? How did he grant you this power?” She asked while walking around Rowan and eyeing the fresh ground then back at her. “I knew about some of your past, as your rose to power and your name fell to legend, but not all. Then I stumbled on a tome, written by your very own husband, describing not only all the events I knew from a thousand years before, but those that transpired afterwards. Things that you yourself aren't even aware of. Naturally I brushed most of it off as fanciful nonsense,” The woman laughed to herself and then looked back at Rowan again. “To think that the Dread Wolf himself could love! Especially a _mortal_ woman, and then take her as his Bride? I thought the notion was absurd, yet here you are... still alive and undergoing the stages of immortality.”

“I'm married... to Fen'Harel?” How could she be married, and to Fen'Harel of all people... the Elven God? No, it had to be untrue. And a "fledgling Goddess"? None of what this woman said made any sense to her, yet somehow it rang true in the deep recesses of her mind and heart. "There must be some mistake, I am married to no one, especially not Fen'Harel."

“Oh but you are. There's no need to play coy with me,” she said as she circled around Rowan again and inhaled the air around Rowan, “Why I can still smell his scent on you from last nights passion and, oh look,” she said trailing a finger on her neck where Solas had bitten her, “he even left his mark upon you. How typical to mark what he believes belongs to him...”

“Solas is... Fen'Harel?” She was shocked by this. But what about this other woman he had told her all about? The Champion that had... of course! That's when it dawned on her what he had been trying to tell her all along this morning. That s _he_ was that other woman yet she had allowed her jealousy and anger to blind her from what he had been attempting to get her to understand. No, she shook her head at the idea. It was absurd, none of this could be real, how could it be? This had to be some trick, some mistake. “No, it can't be true,” she said shaking her head at the possibility. “There is no way any of what you say can be true. My Amnesia-”

“Don't be silly!” Morrigan laughed at her naivety. “Why I could tell you everything about yourself, and the life you once lived, and not trigger a single moment of pain. I can tell you anything you want to know because you, my dear, have never met me until this very moment. Oh yes, it appears that I have found a loophole in your so-called curse,” Morrigan said whispering in her ear now.

“How? Are you... one of _Them_?” Suddenly suspicious of this strange woman she now regretted tossing away her necklace, it would have warned if she was in any danger.

“Ah yes, the big question; who is this mystery woman that knows more about you than your own self?” Morrigan kept slowly circling Rowan forcing her to turn to face her every step of the way. “No, I am not one of Them. I am a what you could call a free agent, though on occasion I do provide them with favors in exchange for things of great interest to me," she said tugging at a glove. She eyed Rowan through her hair and continued, "And you _Rowhanna_ , are the Goddess of Love. A fledgling Goddess, there's still a bit of mortality left in you although not much, but a Goddess all the same. And it appears you have other... abilities... as well,” she said looking at the now replenished ground that minutes before was black with red veins running through it. Then it dawned on her, Morrigan had called her Rowhanna, said that she was a fledgling Goddess.

“Just how am I Rowhanna?” she asked questioningly.

“Residing in the Garden of Love, revered by the Elves as their Goddess for over a millennium, as you slumbered blissfully unaware? It seemed to have a profound effect on you. You know how The Others came into their power, yes? 'Twas the same with you,” she said with a sly smile on her face, “But there is something else more powerful that lingers within you, something much greater than a mere thousand years of devotion,” she drawled on. “You are much more powerful than just Rowhanna. You possess great powers that you should not for being a mere Goddess of Love. No, something else entirely different resides in you. There is also the spark of something entirely new deep inside. A power of its own...”

Rowan shook her head at the absurdity of it all. “I don't... I don't believe you. How can I trust you?"

“From one woman to another know that there are truths our bodies cannot hide even from ourselves... If you do not trust me, then trust this,” Morrigan stood behind Rowan now and took one of Rowan's hands and placed it on her lower belly beneath Morrigan's. The woman held it there before letting go of Rowan's hand allowing the truth of the matter to sink in. “It seems as if last night's escapades brought on more than anticipated,” she whispered in her ear. Rowan could feel the faint heat that emanated within her. A pulse that was in sync with hers but fainter. Her eyes grew wide at this revelation.

“No, it can't be!” Rowan snatched herself away from Morrigan facing her once again. She didn't need her necklace to know she now faced a threat as her instincts kicked in suddenly. “What is it that you want from me?” she demanded from her this mystery woman.

“You want to know the truth? Very well,” Morrigan sighed. “At first I came to kill you. To slay the one thing that would break the Dread Wolf the most, the woman he treasures above everything else. That is what I was sent to do but I will not,” she admitted with a mock sigh. “I will not after having noticed two most intriguing things about you; your immortality and your... _condition_. There is more value in keeping you alive now than there is in having you dead.”

“So now you intend to do what, capture me? Is that your plan?” Rowan's face flushed red. She could feel the heat of her anger rising again and knew she would not be able to contain it.

“Abduction is beneath me and I will not deceive you,” she said turning her back and looking over her shoulder at Rowan after a few steps before turning around to face her once more. “Have you not already been deceived by your own Husband and have I not been forthcoming with you? Come with me,” she extended a hand to Rowan. She, too, felt the heat of the woman's anger radiating off of her but was unafraid. “I am offering you sanctuary and an alliance among other things. You would be safe from The Others, living amongst Them. You would be accepted as one of Their own. Together We would teach you how to harness the full potential of your powers, how to become stronger and more truly what you are.”

“No, you wish to use me as bait, that's what you are really offering. You wanted to kill me for revenge and now if I go with you then you can use me against him.” Rowan wished she had her staff on her but it was behind her and she would never make it in time. She didn't know what this woman was, if she was not one of The Others then how could she claim to have lived as long as she stated Rowan had? Instead she ended up curling her hands up into fists at her side as the anger continued to rise.

“Everybody uses each other, or has our conversation not taught you anything?” Morrigan said with a slight laugh. “And think of what you can do,” she said motioning to the ground. “The whole world could be healed just by a touch! Why you would be the world's savior _once again_... Think about what I am offering you, Rowhanna,” she pleaded with Rowan.

Hearing herself referred as Rowhanna was all she could take. “My name is not Rowhanna, it's Rowan! I am not this Herald, this Inquisitor, I am not some Goddess and I will not let you use me in your petty schemes!” At that she let out of force of power with her hands towards Morrigan nearly knocking the woman back. Morrigan simply laughed it off and before she could do or say anything else the woman was glaring at her.

"Have it your way," she said glaring at her as Rowan felt her throat gripped by an unseen force. She was lifted up off the ground that appeared to be in conjunction with Morrigan's hand movements. The world began to fade as Rowan lost consciousness.

*

Solas was in a shop restocking on potions and medicinal herbs he thought they might need for the trip and was heading back to the taven when he suddenly felt the wave of emotions hit him:

 _Remorse..._  
_Regret..._  
_Grief..._

 _His_  emotions, he knew. Just as quickly as they had overwhelmed him he felt them dissipate. She had put her necklace back on but then must have taken it back off. Why would she take it off, he wondered? If she had put it on then she must have gotten dressed and was readying for their departure. Having returned to the tavern he went to the door to their room and rapped his knuckles on the door calling out her name. He received no answer. He couldn't even hear the slightest of hints of stirring within so he opened the door but found that the room was empty. She was not inside.

That's when he noticed that the sack of rations had been rummaged through and her pack and staff were gone. The sole window was open letting in a cool breeze now that the rain had stopped. Perhaps she was in town and had simply opted to avoid him for the time being? But why then had she taken rations? He spied the ring sitting upon the table. She had taken it off and left it behind. She wasn't waiting for him, she was fleeing from him. The sight of the ring sitting on the table pained him. She was rejecting him and left the ring behind to serve as an indicator of this fact.

He grabbed the ring and pocketed it while gathering the remainder of his items, including the food, and headed out with haste. She would have needed supplies, he hoped he could catch her in time before she left town. He didn't know what he would say to her when he caught up to her, but he couldn't let her leave without him. It was far too dangerous for her to be traveling alone. As he accessed the main tavern hall the redhead that had attended her yesterday was waiting for him, Rowan's Garden dress in hand.

“Solas, sir,” she said somewhat apologetically. “My Lady Rowan left this with the seamstress. She said she could not possibly accept a fine gift and thought that perhaps you could return it to her?” Something was terribly wrong; the ring and the dress? Her rejection of him was all too obvious now. He took the dress from her with slightly trembling fingers.

“Thank you, da'len,” he said with a quiver in his voice. “Where else might she have gone, would you know?”

“I think she went to the stable master, Sir,” the girl noticed the concern look on his face and frowned. "Is everything alright, Sir?"

He ignored the question. He didn't have time. “How long ago did she leave?” he asked eyeing the door. He needed to head to the stable master and soon.

“About an hour or so, maybe more? I'm not entirely certain, Sir," the redhead said then perked up. "She may still be in town!” the girl stated enthusiastically as Solas exited the tavern. No, he thought. She isn't. She had left and gone on her own. That much was clear to him. He would need his mount and hoped he could track her using her necklace. Even if she was no longer wearing it he should be able to locate her. He couldn't let The Others stumble upon heror anything else for that matter. She was a stranger in a land she did not understand the rules of.

Solas steered his mount out of the city gates and was about to push the Frostback to a gallop when he spied something glittering on the ground; it was Rowan's necklace. He dismounted, pocketed the necklace. So she had discarded that as well. Most likely she had accurately guessed that it had been a gift from him and decided that all memories of him she no longer wished to have. He got back up on his mount after placing the necklace in his pack. The ride would be slower now, he would not be able to use their amulets as a beacon in which to locate her. He knew he had upset her but didn't realize to what extent until now, and there was no snow in which to track her mounts hooves in. He would have to rely solely on his instincts and hunting abilities now. He headed eastward as it was the opposite direction from whence they had arrived. He did not believe she would return to the Deep Roads and northbound was not an option. No, she would attempt to reach Skyhold on her own, this much he suspected. He had showed her the way many times on his map and she very well could have it at least partially memorized. He did not know how far ahead of him she was so he kicked up his Frostback into a gallop.

About an hour or more in, as he had to travel slower than she had, Solas could hear commotion up ahead and recognized Rowan's voice. As a matter of fact he recognized the other woman's as well. Morrigan, he thought as he dismounted his Frostback and ran around the corner. Morrigan spied Solas as he came to an abrupt halt. She was holding a now unconscious Rowan by the throat magically and smiled at him with a gleam in her eyes. She was standing on a patch of freshly healed soil and held Rowan out precariously above the scorched earth when she spied Solas.

"Rowan... No!" he cried out at the sight laid out before him. An Elven version of Morrigan was standing before him as Rowan was hung precariously above the scorched earth.

“I had hoped you would come to rescue your Bride, _Dread Wolf_ ,” the witch laughed at him as he approached.

“Morrigan, release her... Now!” he commanded as he advanced in a fury. Rowan appeared as if she had been injured and she was presently unconscious. The familiar “Witch of the Wilds” stood before him now as he drew closer, magically holding his beloved above the deadly ground. He brushed off the burn marks in her gear and flesh as combat related between the two.

“You wouldn't want me to do that, now would you?” Morrigan said with a sly smile as she magically dangled an unconscious Rowan barely a foot above the scorched land.

“I won't ask you again,” he stated as he advanced with a familiar glint in his eye. “Don't toy with me, witch!” What Morrigan was doing to Rowan and why he did not know. She must have been watching them and he had been far too distracted to notice, and now the witch was using Rowan against him. Surely she would call The Others shortly?

Morrigan recognized the familiar glimmer in his eye and knew what he intended to do to. “Come any closer, make a single move, and I drop her right where she is,” she threatened while with the wave of her her hand Rowan dipped closer to the ground. She had intended to just throw her and be on her merry way when but then Solas had appeared and she held fast. This was a game changer for the witch. She could now get closer to the truth of how he had bestowed this gift upon his cherished Bride, a truth she wanted him to impart to her. Now she would use what leverage she had in exchange for the information.

Solas looked genuinely alarmed. Rowan was mere inches from the ground now and he was attempting to determine if he could save Rowan and fight off Morrigan at the same time. She would prove to be a much easier target than The Others, but she had Rowan. He didn't believe that he could perform both. And if the witch summoned The Others, Rowan would surely perish in the aftermath that would ensue.

Though in an Elven form now, Morrigan had used the same method of effective immortality that Flemeth had; taking over the bodies of others. Over the last thousand years the witch had become most proficient in her abilities having learned the spell from Flemeth's Grimoire, but without worshipers to revere her as a Goddess she had not gained the same type of immortality as the Evanuris had. No, as each body began to wither and decay she was forced to seek out a newer, younger one. Whereas Flemeth had used willing participants, her daughters she called them, Morrigan did not. She merely took what she wanted and when she wanted. Morrigan knew she was easy prey for the likes of Solas but she wanted this secret he harbored and thus forewent alerting The Others of his whereabouts.

“Your fight is with me, not her! She has done nothing to you!” he snapped at the witch.

“On the contrary, 'twas not I the one who started this little quarrel, I'm afraid. She was the one foolish enough to attack me first. I merely defended myself. Besides, I'm afraid you are in no position to tell me what to do and what not to do... I have the upper hand, so to speak.” Morrigan laughed at this. She began pacing back and forth slowly on what appeared to be freshly restored soil. It was a curiosity he didn't have the time to consider at the moment. Instead Solas contemplated the current predicament. He could easily defeat the witch but not save Rowan at the same time. He dropped his staff and landed on his knees in defeat, tears surfacing in his eyes. He would do or say whatever it took to save his Bride, whatever the witch wanted he would give, he would do. Rowan meant more to him than anything else.

“Please, whatever you do, don't hurt her,” he pleaded with a quiver in his voice. “I'm begging you.” Morrigan realized then that Solas had no idea that dropping Rowan would only heal the ground beneath her otherwise he would have attacked her. She had suspected as much, that this was something the little Goddess just discovered today for herself. Otherwise he would not be so full of fear for his Bride, and his fear was genuine she could see. She never thought she'd see the day that the great Fen'Harel would be on his knees begging for anything, yet there he was.

“So I see that the mighty Fen'Harel does have a heart?" she said as she observed the dismay in his eyes. Morrigan had not believed that Solas was truly capable of real love. Despite his tome that she had found in his Sanctuary while searching for him, and the great lengths he took to detailing the events of their union, her near death, and everything that transpired afterwards, she thought that was mere rubbish he had made up to make himself feel better regarding her death. Then she had spied them exiting the Deep Roads. She was about to alert The Others when she noticed the glimmer of immortality in Rowan and she wanted it for herself. She was no fool, They cared not for her and she was but a tool for Them. No, she held off until the timing was right.

Morrigan eyed Solas kneeling on the ground before her. “You do love her then, don't you? I mean anyone could see that the two of you had something between you back at Skyhold," she mocked him, "but you truly love her, your little Goddess?”

"Yes, I do. Very much so,” he admitted. He had no reason to deny it and couldn't if he were so inclined. “Please, just release her and leave us in peace. I'll do anything you ask.” He was desperate now and it showed as he hung his head with tears streaming down his face. He looked up at Morrigan pleadingly. He was now at the mercy of the witch.

“Very well,” she replied. Morrigan almost pitied him, but she wanted something in exchange, “I will release your Bride but you will hear out my terms and agree to them first. Agree and allow me safe passage, and you may have her back. Attack me or turn me down and I allow her to die whilst you watch." Morrigan stated in no uncertain terms.

“I'll do whatever you want... _Anything_.” He would even sacrifice his own life if that's what it took.

“First you will call off the hunt. They won't bother you so long as you don't bother Them, that much I can promise you. Do we have an agreement?" she asked.

“I agree. I will seek Them out no further.” This would ruin all his plans for the world as they would grow in power, but it was a risk he was willing to take at the moment given the situation he was in.

“Good, I have but one last simple demand,” she said in a dramatic turn. “I want the secret of her immortality. I grow weary of changing bodies. Give me the secret and I will release her to you safely right now." He feared her reaction when he told her what little truth he could. He didn't truly know how Mythal had done what she had done, and Morrigan would have to find a willing participant. Not a single one of The Others would do this for her, for she was still beneath Them in Their eyes. The only one was Solas himself if it mean saving Rowan, but that part he would be forced to bend the truth of and only tell her what little he did know. So he looked up at Morrigan and met her yellow eyes. “I'm afraid I don't know exactly how she became what she is."

"You lie!" Morrigan shouted out and made a motion as if to drop Rowan.

“I don't know how it was done!” Solas stood up in alarm speaking rapidly. “I only know part of it. Elven worship is how it began, how it was completed that I do not understand! All I know is that Mythal did this to her. And I do not know if it could be repeated or the exact method She used as I was not there.”

“ _Mother_ did this to her?” Morrigan asked. She knew The Others had searched far and wide for Mother but had been unable to locate her until recently.

“No, not Flemeth, it was Mythal Herself,” Solas replied.

“So she has Mythal within her now? As Mother had?" No, Morrigan thought, that could not be the truth of it for even Flemeth herself still had to take on the bodies of her daughters and she did not sense that in Rowan. No she sensed something far greater than that within the Dread Wolf's Queen.

“No and yes. Mythal Herself is no more but I am unclear on the exact details of what Mythal did to Rowan. As I said, I was not there when it was done and I have never known its like before. But with the combined Goddess-hood that Rowan was already developing along with part of Mythal, the transformation was unlike anything I've ever known. I do not think it could be repeated in you, not yet.” That was as much truth as he was willing to offer. He could see that the witch was now visibly upset over hearing the fate of Flemeth and he used this to his advantage.

“And Mother, where is she now?” Morrigan asked faltering a bit taking the bait. He had hoped that mentioning Mythal and Flemeth would derail Morrigan's train of thought and it had.

"She's... gone. They came for Mythal but She was no longer within her. She had left this plane and Flemeth was not strong enough to survive the attack. This was in the Garden and I... was too late to save her. Your quarrel is not with me when it comes to Flemeth, but with Them.” _They had killed Mother_ , Morrigan thought. Defenseless against Them, a mortal Mage if Solas was to be believed, and believe him she did.

“Please Morrigan, let her go now,” he implored her. “I've told you everything I know. I will find out the secret of how this was done and give it to you if you only let her go. I need Rowan if I am to figure it out.” Though Solas knew the basics of what Mythal had done he did not understand fully the how of it all for no immortal had performed what Mythal had performed before, but if it bought them some time it was good enough for him. Provided that Morrigan believed him.

“Very well,” she said seeking the truth in his face. Her own grief overrode her sensibilities at hearing about the loss of Flemeth. “I and The Others shall leave you be, but you will find me the source of your lover's immortality. I'll be watching, and when you do discover it I will come to collect it.”

Before Solas could react Morrigan tossed Rowan into the air and disappeared in a wave of her hand. He caught her last words as Rowan landed hard on the ground.

“Collect your bride, Solas. Besides, I think the two of you will have much to discuss when she awakes.”

* * *

[Read Here for Part Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917021/chapters/39745494)

 


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